


Iris

by Lolibat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Howl no Ugoku Shiro | Howl's Moving Castle
Genre: Anime/movie verse, Crossover, F/M, MoD Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolibat/pseuds/Lolibat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie Hatter, professional hat maker and part time wallflower, was perfectly content with her life until Great Magician Howl and his troublesome castle dragged her into the world of magic and wonder. 'A crazy life', she thought, but at least she found a most unexpected ally in her time of need. "Sophie, come greet your new neighbor," Lettie said. "I have one?" She asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Iris

I.

“So it’s yet another war, huh? It’s a wonder Sulliman isn’t tired of them.” The pages of the newspaper rustled. “What are they fighting over this time? A missing prince? How quaint,” the man said sarcastically. “As usual, humanity will burn and recover- and live to repeat all this again for all eternity.” He murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

“Would you like more tea, sir?” The waitress asked, holding a metal jug of steaming water.

“No thank you, Dear. I was just leaving,” the man smiled winsomely at the young girl- who blushed and nodded. Thankfully, her grip on the jug remained steady.

The man got up and stretched his limbs. He should probably leave this town before the war’s insatiable appetite consumes it whole. He looked over the coastlines at the lush, green mountains.  The harbor was peaceful, for now, and full of small fishermen ships. Seagulls cried in the skies, soaring over the seas. ‘What a pity,’ he thought as he folded his newspaper. The man looked at the idyllic harbor front, the calm peaceful seas, and the laughing children playing on the streets. He sat, observing the town and engraving every detail into his mind. ‘I will miss it very much.’

* * *

II.

“Sophie, come greet your new neighbor,” Lettie said while lounging around their father’s hat shop.

“I have one?” The elder Hatter asked apathetically while sewing a flower on yet another hat.

“Sophie, I can’t believe you,” Lettie said, throwing her hands up. “How can you not notice? And to think your new neighbor is a total cutie as well- you are _so_ lucky.”

“You’ve met him?” She replied, not even looking up once. “You know I’m not interested in that sort of thing; I’m busy enough running this shop. I _don’t_ have time for anything else.”

“Sophie, father wouldn’t have wanted you to stay cooped up in this shop all your life. You should go out and have _fun_. Live a little! Go meet the people around you, like that cute neighbor of yours,” Lettie pleaded, gently pushing Sophie’s back.

“He is the talk of the town, you know. Handsome, healthy young men like him are rare nowadays, with the war going on,” she said slyly, teasing her older- and of age to marry- sister.

Sophie nodded absently in vague agreement, not bothering with a verbal reply. She brushed off Lettie’s hands easily and refocused on her task.

“Oh come on, Sophie!” Lettie insisted and grabbed Sophie’s wrist. “At least be _polite_ and say hello. It would be rude of you not to do so. A simply greeting wastes so much of your time,” she said sarcastically.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go. Just give me a second to clean up here.” Sophie sighed as Lettie bodily dragged her away from her table.  She brushed off the loose threads at her work station and hurriedly dumped her beads back into their bag. “I can walk on my own, you know.”

* * *

III.

“Welcome to my humble little antique store. Is there anything I can help you with?” A voice greeted the sisters the moment they pushed open the door. Sophie took a quick glance at the interior of the shop; it was much more spacious than it looked from the outside, curiously enough. The shelves were still relatively empty though. On the floor, boxes piled upon boxes stacked all the way up to the ceiling.

Unpacked stock, probably. Sophie thought to herself. This person must not have moved in too long ago.

“Oh hello again,” Lettie said coyly, fiddling with the hem of her uniform. Her cheeks were blushed as she batted her eyelashes coyly. “I am so terribly sorry to bother you again, but my sister here wanted to say hello. She owns the hat shop right across the street from you.” Lettie’s elbow dug unto Sophie’s back; she flinched.

“Oh er, hi. My name is Sophie,” she mumbled shyly at the young man behind the counter and curtsied slightly. Her gaze slid away from his face and onto the floor. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

At first glance, she could easily see why Lettie was so infatuated with the storeowner. Available young men are scarce enough nowadays, thanks to the war, and the man in front of her could easily be labeled as handsome.

“Hello,” the man smiled charmingly at them both- to Sophie’s surprise. She was used to being neglected in favor of Lettie (not that she minded much). “My name is Harry Potter. It’s nice to meet you. I have only moved in for a few days, so I can use all the help I can get, as you can see.” He laughed and gestured over to his tower of boxes. Lettie let out a small squeak- what for, Sophie didn’t know.

“I’m glad that my neighbors are so friendly.” He said politely while bowing.

“I’ll be more than happy to show you the many different stores our town has to offer,” Lettie said eagerly, immediately jumping on the chance. “When are you free? I work close by, so perhaps we can chat over tea?”

Sophie tried not to roll her eyes at her overenthusiastic younger sister. Typical Lettie.

If anything, Harry seemed taken back by Lettie’s attitude. “Er, I am very grateful for your help, but I believe I have yet to unpack all my belongings. If it is alright, my we have tea at a later date instead?” He said apologetically while trying to turn Lettie down lightly. He looked at the tower of boxes behind him and sighed.

Still, he seemed genuinely apologetic for turning down Lettie’s offer, Sophie thought.

“Oh that’s right,” Lettie tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. “I work at the bakery across the square, so maybe you can come find me when you have time? If you don’t know the way, Sophie will show you, _right_?”

“Er, right,” Sophie said. She had no intentions of wasting her time being a third wheel, but it would be nice to visit Lettie once in a while- tag-along stranger aside.

“I would not want to impose, Sophie,” Harry said sheepishly and rubbed his head. He really _is_ polite, she mused.

“It would be my pleasure,” she said immediately. “I visit Lettie quite often, so it would not be an imposition at all.”

“Alright, perhaps another day then,” Harry agreed reluctantly. Or never, he thought to himself.

* * *

IV.

Harry looked up from polishing an old goblet when he sensed the presence of magic nearby. Nearby as it right across from the street.

‘My, I do hope Sophie is alright,’ Harry thought to himself. He had grown rather fond of the young women; she was diligent, responsible, and intelligent. She made good use of her time and had her priorities straight. Of course, he couldn’t say the same for her younger sister. Harry grimaced as he thought of the flirty blond. For reasons unknown to him, he was once again swarmed by bachelorettes. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme for him no matter how many times he relocated. He never took interest in their offers- he had no desire to leave any progeny in a world like this. Besides, he preferred women with ambition, independence, and confidence. A trophy wife would simply not do for him.

His mind recalled memories of Ginny, with her auburn hair and fiery temper. Ginny, he thought fondly to himself. He remembered her laugh, her bravery, and her skill. Her dirt streaked, tousled appearance after a particularly trying Quidditch match, and the happiness in her eyes after winning said match. He remembered her bravery as a student, fighting against opposition with all her might. He remembered the softness in her gaze and the warmth in her voice as she sung lullabies to _their_ children in the dead of night. Roughly, he brushed aside his errant thoughts- dwelling on the dead will not bring them back, as much as he wished it would.

This town as a whole was rather nice- very peaceful and warm. It had a more earthy feel compared to his last harbor front town (which was now evacuated and most likely up in flames), he told himself. Since it was not close to any ports or military bases, the effects of war were rather muted here. Harry guessed that he had perhaps a couple of years left in this town if he was lucky, but he couldn’t really say for sure. War moves rather quickly, so he had to be ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

A spike of magic broke Harry from his thoughts- this time, he could identify the magical signature. It was rather familiar to him, though it was muted and distorted almost beyond recognition.

‘Ah, Howl,’ Harry nodded to himself after a moment of confusion. Only one magician would be that paranoid of getting caught. It has been many years since he has last seen Howl. Back when the boy was still Sulliman’s apprentice, Harry knew Howl’s uncle. The innocent, sweet boy was nothing like the heartless womanizer he found ten years later.

Howl’s moving castle, they say. To Harry, that moving pile of junk was an embodiment of Howl’s fear. If there was one thing the magician would fight tooth and nail for, it was his freedom. Merlin have mercy on anyone trying to take that away from him.

Anyhow, Howl’s presence here can only mean one thing: he found Sophie. While the girl was no beauty, she holds a latent sense of power within her. It was immense and purer than any other Harry had ever seen, but the girl was held back by her utter lack of a backbone. It was quite possible that the girl can learn magic if she ever got her mentality straightened out. Harry made a mental note to keep Sulliman well away from her.

However, Harry frowned. If Howl paid Sophie a visit- without stealing her heart- then it was quite possible that the Witch of the Waste would do so as well- that malicious, walking tub of lard.

With a sigh, Harry drew his magic closer to his core and hunkered down in his store. It has been many years since he has last been a magician- or a wizard. After the discovery of magic by muggle governments several centuries ago, he had done his best to make the transition process as smooth as possible. For a while, his efforts were successful, and the world carried on peacefully.

Until the first war came, that was. At first, magicians were hired, but eventually, new wizards and witches were forced to take magically binding oaths to report for duty in times of war. As one of the few surviving wizards of his time- and now, the only left- he was not required to take that oath. It was perhaps the only reason why he could live a semi-normal life as a nonmagical without the military knocking on his door.

Still, he had made his mistakes- if he could not fix them, he would do damn well to ignore their existence.

* * *

V.

“Sophie? What are you doing out here so early?” Harry asked curiously as he hauled out a rather large bag of garbage and broken antiques out the front door. It was truly a shame that so many of them broke during the move, he thought sadly. He reparo-ed them so often that the spell can hardly get them to move anymore. And so, to the dumps they go.

“You can recognize me?” Her old and cracking voice wheezed. Her back was hunched, and her face was full of wrinkles, but the purity inside her was the same as ever.

“Why of course. How could I not?” Harry shrugged. What a wizard he would be, if he could not even recognize such a plebian spell.

Sophie just stared. And kept staring. And stared some more, just for measure.

“Well, besides the fact that you have some sort of curse laid on you,” Harry admitted reluctantly. “I assume you can’t discuss the details of it with me.” It was one of the more malicious bit of magic the wizards of this era came up with: silence of the cursed. Unfortunately, that spell is quite widely known, so silence of the cursed does nothing to conceal the presence of the spell from magicians worth their salt.

She still stared. “You know magic?”

Harry hesitated and looked around the area for any of Sulliman’s minions. He absently formed a ward around the red sheet of paper in Sophie’s pocket as well- undoubtedly the Witch of the Waste’s tracking spell for Howl. “Let us not talk about the matter in here. Would you like some tea?” The wards around his shop should dispel any remaining listening spells on her body.

“Yes, if that is alright,” Sophie said slowly. She pulled the thick woolen coat around her tightly and seemingly shrunk back from the shop.

“Of course,” Harry nodded and showed her in. Reluctantly, she entered.

* * *

VI.

“So what do you plan to do now?” Harry added a dash of milk to his hot tea. It was a well practiced gesture, one that told of his heritage.

“I am heading to the Wastes to ask the Witch to cancel my spell,” Sophie said determinedly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. It appears that Sophie _would_ gain confidence eventually- only that it would take her nearly sixty years to do it. It was also possible that her confrontation with the Witch unlocked some of her latent magic. Either way, some development in that direction is better than no development at all. He wasn’t quite sure how to help her with the curse, but Harry figured that Sophie can probably remove it herself once her magic develops enough. For now, he will simply have to wait.

“Okay. I will go with you,” Harry shrugged easily.

Sophie dropped her bread on her plate and gaped at him.

“What? Surely you don’t expect me to let you wander into the Wastes by yourself, do you? The Wastes are dangerous- and with good reason. You are not in your top physical condition right now, and even if you were, I would still insist. A woman wandering into the Wastes without the aid of magic is foolish at best,” Harry explained and got up. Like hell he was going to let someone of Sophie’s magical potential go into the wastes alone. No good magician would, really.

“Thank you for your kind help, but don’t you have a shop to run? I wouldn’t want to impose,” Sophie replied, looking pointedly at the tower of cardboard boxes stacked in a corner.

Harry waved away her concerns. “Nonsense- the shop can wait. I will simply have it locked until I return. What have you packed for now, Sophie? Come with me to the kitchens- since I can carry some of the heavier foodstuff and provisions for you, so you can bring more than just the essentials.”

* * *

VII.

“Sophie, are you alright?” Harry asked, concerned. His voice could barely be heard over the howling winds. As it is, he had to strain his voice to be heard.

“I’m fine- it’s just that these old bones don’t work like they used to anymore!” Sophie yelled over the howling winds and pulled her shawl closer to her body.

 “Sophie, we should take a break,” Harry suggested. His magic tingled at his fingertips, eager to be used. Harry ruthlessly suppressed it. While he didn’t have a warming charm for her, he did have a thermos of hot tea in his bag. He would not risk doing magic- not out here, at least. They were not in the wastes- not yet- and since the town is far from them now, any magical signature left behind here would be easily traced.

“Yes, perhaps a break would be good,” she muttered. Harry spotted a nice rock outcropping and pointed it out to Sophie.

“Let me put a blanket on it first- otherwise it will be rather cold,” he said while rummaging through his backpack. “There.” Thankfully, the thick blanket was already warm from being pressed close to Harry’s back throughout the hike.

“Thank you, Harry,” Sophie said gratefully and pulled out her provisions to share with Harry.

The duo ate in silence; Harry’s gaze swept through the landscape before him, engraving the beautiful scene into his mind.

“If only I wasn’t there dragging you down, Harry,” Sophie said quietly. “We haven’t made much progress at all. I guess being old is harder than I thought.”

“Nonsense, Sophie. We have come quite far from the town already. ” Harry said firmly. “I am here to help you- it’s what I came to do. I wouldn’t have headed out to the Wastes on my own anyways.” After a moment of silence, he joked, “Besides, you’re not getting rid of me this easily.”

Sophie laughed weakly. “Thank you,” she repeated.

“If there’s anything you need, I’ll do my best to help,” Harry laid his warm hands on her cold ones.

Sophie nodded and gave the matter some thought. Harry _did_ look earnest in his offer. “A walking stick, perhaps? That way I won’t always have to lean on you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. Apparently, Sophie gets _stubborn_ in her old age as well. “I’ll see if I can find you one. There should be plenty of branches on a hill like this,” Harry said, patting his knees and getting up.

“Branches like that one?”

“Well,” Harry started, but Sophie was already walking towards the stick.

“My, this is one stubborn branch,” she muttered as she tried to dislodge the branch in multitude of ways. She let out a gasp when it retaliated and nearly smacked her in the chin.

Harry sighed and got up. That’s because that is _not_ a branch, he thought to himself. Nonetheless, he made his way towards her.

Even with their combined efforts, the branch was stubbornly stuck. They pulled and pushed this way and that with no avail. Finally, with one last heave, they wrestled it free of the brambles.

“Oh,” Sophie shrinked back in fear as the branch revealed to be a scarecrow. A gravity defying one, at that. “Just a scarecrow. I was afraid you would be one of those blob men again.”

“The witch’s?” Harry asked absently. Sophie nodded.

“But how are you standing on your own like that?” Sophie asked curiously and walked a half circle around the yet nameless magical scarecrow.

“He is probably cursed,” Harry mused. “Otherwise he shouldn’t be able to balance on his own- not with the wind blowing so strongly.”

Sophie stared. The scarecrow… also stared- as much as a scarecrow could anyways.

“The spell is quite strong too,” Harry walked around the scarecrow and looked at it closely. “Whoever laid this spell on is quite powerful- and has a sick sense of humor to boot. The magician added a side spell that causes you to trip; and since you can’t prop yourself back up…”

“Harry?” Sophie asked carefully.

“Yes?” He replied, feeling the material of the scarecrow’s coat tail. It spun around, yanking the fabric out of Harry’s hands. “Fine, fine,” the store owner muttered.

“How do you know he is cursed?”

“I told you- I used to be a magician,” Harry said shortly. “I’m not one- not anymore. Anyhow, we should get a move on before the sun sets. It will be even colder then.”

Sophie nodded. In the back of her mind, she noted that Harry was especially cagey whenever the topic of magic comes up. How does one _quit_ being a magician anyways?

“Will you give him a name?” Harry asked. “You can’t just keep referring to him as Scarecrow.”

“Hm…” Sophie looked at the cursed scarecrow carefully. “Your head is a turnip; that is my least favorite  vegetable, you know. I guess I will call you Turniphead from now on.”

Harry sniggered, but at least the scarecrow didn’t have an issue with the name.

“Well, at least you’re not stuck anymore,” Harry shrugged. “It was nice meeting you- good luck with your curse. Here, I’ll take off the one that causes you to trip. It’s pretty minor, so I can do that. I’m afraid I can’t take off the one that caused you to turn into a scarecrow though.”

* * *

VIII.

“Sophie, hurry,” Harry rushed. “This is no time to be indecisive.” He gave Sophie a leg up onto the ledge of Howl’s Moving Castle and hopped on as well.

“Thank you Turniphead! It was a pleasure meeting you! I’m sure Howl won’t eat the heart an old lady like me,” Sophie called. “And thank you- for giving me my shawl back!”

“Howl will not be eating _anyone’s_ heart if I can help it,” Harry said drily as he gently pushed Sophie through the door. “And thank you, Turnip!” Harry wondered if he will see the scarecrow again- he seems quite adamant on following them, though he had a hunch that it was probably Sophie he was following. Their meeting was no coincidence. As a witch once told him, there was no “coincidences”- there is only fate.

* * *

IX.

“My, this place is as much of a dump as ever,” Harry said as he surveyed his surroundings. “It’s the biggest bachelor pad around- and one of the worst kept too- right, Sophie?”

“Sophie?” Harry repeated when he heard no reply. He looked around the room only to find the girl seated in front of a fire, nearly asleep.

“Sophie, you shouldn’t fall asleep like that- you’ll wake up sore. I’m sure there’s a couch here somewhere… I’m just not sure if it’s clean enough for you to sleep on,” Harry grimaced. He glared at the mold in the corner- it shrank back. Given that it was magical mold, Harry wasn’t too surprised that it was sentient.

“You should listen to that guy over there. Besides, that is one nasty curse on you- you’ll feel the aches of a granny on top of looking like one too. You’ll have a really hard time getting rid of that one.” a voice came from the hearth.

“The fire spoke,” Sophie whispered in surprise. She was still sore from her hike, and the warmth from fire felt quite nice. She leaned closer to examine the glowing ball of gas.

“Let me guess- it stops you from talking about it,” the fire continued.

“Don’t ask what you already know,” Harry replied calmly, still trying to find a clean spot _somewhere_.

“Hey, I just wanted to confirm,” the fire said defensively.

“Who are you?” Sophie asked. “Are you Howl?”

“No, Howl has more class. Way more class.” Harry said automatically without turning around. He grunted as he turned over a chair and sent a family of mice fleeing for their lives.

At the same time, the fire replied “No, I am a great fire demon named Calcifer!” Calcifer even spat out a lick of violet flame for extra effect. “ I just feel like doing that every once in a while.”

“Practically every time there’s a visitor,” Harry muttered. “He’s no great demon- just a back chatting ball of gas,” Harry said to Sophie, completely ignoring Calcifer’s existence.

“Hey I heard that,” Calcifer protested.

“You were meant to,” Harry retorted, not missing a beat. “You haven’t changed since the last time I was here.”

Calcifer squinted his beady eyes at the magician before him. Moments passed before Harry decided to take pity on the poor demon and let his magic swim closer to the surface of his skin.

“Harry? You’re still alive? I haven’t seen you in ages!” The fire demon shrunk back in surprise.

“Unless you know anyone else who likes to show up unannounced in the middle of the night,” Harry said with a small smirk. “I don’t die easily”- or at all, he mentally amended.

Before Sophie could start firing questions, he shooed her off to bed and dug around in his pack for a blanket. While he couldn’t find a clean spot, he busied himself with making one. Thankfully, the floor was not beyond redemption (and a strong scrogify, now that Howl’s pile of junk was there to mute his magical signature). He pulled out the same one that they used earlier in the day and tucked Sophie in. Once he was sure that she was asleep, Harry dragged up another blanket and curled up on the chair in front of Calcifer.

“That’s even worse for your back, you know,” Calcifer said in a low tone, careful not to wake Sophie.

“Oh hush. You’ve gotten soft for a demon; you’re awfully nice not to kick us out,” Harry pointed out.

“I wouldn’t kick _you_ out- the old Granny maybe,” Calcifer turned his nose up as much as a ball of fire could.

“You didn’t even recognize me when I came in,” Harry scoffed. “No, it’s because of Sophie that you’re so compliant. And why is that, I wonder?” Harry half teased, half asked.

Calcifer stilled. Why indeed.

Just as Harry was drifting between the boundary of wakefulness and sleep, he heard Calcifer say quietly,

“You haven’t changed at all in all these years. You didn’t even age.”

* * *

X.

Harry woke slowly to the sound of cracking eggs and sizzling bacon. A high pitched voice reached through his dreams. There was a child in the house? He thought, confused. It seems like Calcifer is spitting curses too, as usual.

Wait. Calcifer is letting Sophie _cook_? What?

The thought chased away the cobwebs in Harry’s mind faster than anything else.

“Sophie…?” Harry mumbled as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. It appears that Sophie had moved him to the sofa without him noticing. It was thankfully free of the sentient mold on the floor. Was he that tired?

“Ah, Harry, you’re up. Good morning,” Sophie said while turning over the bacon. “Your blanket fell while you were sleeping.”

Harry blinked. “Right, thanks Sophie.” He turned his attention to Sophie. “Calcifer, you let her cook?”

His sentiments were echoed by the child- who Harry assumed to be Howl’s apprentice. His lips twitched.  Sulliman’s old apprentice now has a little ankle biter of his own- how quaint. It seems just like yesterday when Howl himself was a bit older than the child, listening to Harry’s lectures on spell theory.

“Lady didn’t give me any choice,” the demon said crossly.

Harry raised an eyebrow. It seems like Calcifer was strangely responsive to Sophie. Now why is that? Surely her innate magic can’t be strong enough to bend the will of a demon. Magic requires direction as well as power; focusing components like wands or staves used for this purpose. Incantations and runic layouts serve to further direct magic. Therefore, an untaught novice like Sophie would not be able to initiate any magic of her own without training. She can react in defense to it, but to physically coerce a demon like Calcifer would be beyond her scope.

“Well, Sophie. I might as well teach you something about demons… Do you still have the eggshells from the eggs?” Harry asked. Sophie nodded, picking up the discarded shells next to the hearth.

“Great. First rule about demons- when you ask them to do something, you have to give them a sacrifice. For breakfast, leftovers or eggshells will suffice. The better the sacrifice, the better the work,” Harry lectured as he tossed Calcifer the egg shells and the ends of the bacon.

“You know magic, Mister?” The child asked curiously and inched closer. Curiosity is always a good trait in an apprentice, Harry thought with amusement.

Harry was saved from replying by the timely arrival of Howl. In an instant, the apprentice’s attention was diverted to his master, who looked worse for wear.

“Master Howl, the King’s messengers were here. They said you have to report to the palace as both Pendragon and Jenkins,” the boy said anxiously.

Harry suppressed a grimace- this was news to him, though the summons really shouldn’t be a surprise. Howl was bound under a magically binding oath (two, judging by the boy’s words)- he _has to_ report, or else his magic will turn on him. And now, the oath was exerting _double_ the pressure; Howl has no choice _but_ to report.

Instead, Howl ignored the news altogether and headed upstairs- stopping only at the sight of Sophie cooking.

“Calcifer, you’re being so obedient,” he said mildly- a bit weakly, by Harry’s judgement. He must be rather used to having strangers in the house, if his lack of reaction was anything to go by.

“Not on purpose. She bullied me!” the fire sulked.

“Well, not just anybody can do that,” Howl said slowly. “And you are who…?”

“She’s with me,” Harry spoke up quickly before Sophie can fumble for an answer. Howl blinked in surprise, but not recognition. “Her name is Sophie. And my name is Harry,” he added the last part for the benefit of the apprentice and his dunderhead of a master. Howl’s expression tensed slightly in recognition, but he stayed quiet.

The boy bowed quickly, “My name is Marco. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Marco,” he smiled and patted the boy lightly on the head. He ignored Howl’s growing unease.

“It’s a long story,” Harry said when Howl’s attention switched from Sophie to him. “Sophie can pay for her keep with her housekeeping work. You already owe me several times over, so we’ll just all it even.” He paused for a moment. “Well, at least one thing hasn’t changed about this place. Your eternal bachelor pad is as much of a dump as ever.” He glared again at the mold. It _squeaked_ in protest. How did the mold manage to grow vocal cords overnight?

“I’ll work for _our_ keep,” Sophie insisted stubbornly, her hands at her hips. “And I can introduce myself well enough, young man.” Harry only rubbed his hair and sighed, not bothering to argue.

Howl observed the interaction with a hint of humor and accepted the answer at face value. He was pretty bad with this housekeeping thing- why bother when a simple spell can fix the castle up?

“Alright, well hand me three more slices of bacon and six more eggs,” Howl held out the pan to Sophie, having taken over breakfast duty.

“I’ll tell you more later,” Harry waved his hand. His mind was a tad suspicious- Howl accepted the story easily- perhaps a bit too easy. Now why was that? He wondered. “But I’m sure you’ll figure it yourself sooner or later. Thanks for cooking breakfast, Howl. Next time, I’ll try to wake up earlier and cook- you must be tired.” he said pointedly.

Howl ignored the implied meaning behind the magician’s words and instead asked for plates while Sophie insisted that _she_ do the cooking. While Marco was busy with setting the table, Harry whispered to Howl,

“I’m not here as a magician, Howl, relax.” he said. “I quit ages ago- I haven’t used magic in decades- except maybe for minor spells- and I intend to keep things that way.”

“So what do you do now?” He asked, the tension in his shoulders easing.

“Besides hide from Sulliman? I own an antique shop,” Harry shrugged.

Howl chuckled at that. “I’m sure you must have plenty of those. I’m surprised you managed to escape her for so long. I thought for sure that when you left…” he left his statement trailing while dishing out the bacon and eggs.

“I suppressed my magic completely; Sulliman can’t track me down by my magical signature if I gave off no magical energy,” Harry shrugged. “Even Calcifer didn’t recognize me at first, and he’s a demon.”

Howl raised an eyebrow, looking mildly impressed at the feat Harry accomplished.  Harry merely rolled his eyes and took the plates of eggs and bacon. “It’s going to take a lot more than that to kill me.”

“Come eat with us, Sophie, Harry,” Marco called out while setting the table.

* * *

XI.

“Sophie,” Harry coughed. “What Merlin’s name are you doing?” He asked, baffled. He haphazardly dodged another dust bunny that came drifting his way.

“Cleaning,” she replied with fervor. Her words were muffled by the scarf she wore around her mouth.  She didn’t even bother to ask who Merlin was.

“Right…” Harry mumbled as he inched out of the way. He stopped to move some magical texts away from her rough handling. He helpfully stepped on the fleeing mold on his way out. “You are not getting away this time,” Harry said.

“Marco, I think we had better clean the books outside,” Harry suggested. “Well away from that,” he pointed. There were some places where the male gender just do not go- into the warpath of a furious female would be one of them.

The poor boy could only nod mutely.

Text after text, Harry levitated them all out to “Jenkin’s” storefront.

“How are you doing that?” Marco asked curiously when he saw Harry levitate the heavy tomes with ease.

“Oh this? It’s a simple levitation spell. Has Howl not taught you this yet?” Harry asked, flicking his wand once more.

“No, I have never seen anything like it,” Marco shook his head, his eyes following the trajectory of the book that defied physics. He set the books in his arms down on the floor and watched the books do flips in midair.

“Well, if you want to learn, I can teach you…” Harry began. Suddenly, he was on the receiving end of the dreaded puppy eyes of doom. Harry twitched.

* * *

XII.

“Sophie, you can’t leave Calcifer without wood like that,” Harry scolded. He picked up a log and shredded off a large splinter for the fire demon to munch on.

Howl, who had woken up due to the commotion, nodded in thanks and returned the fire demon to the hearth.

“Marco, make sure the cleaning lady doesn’t get too enthusiastic while I’m gone,” Howl said. In the span of a night, he changed from worn and tired to sparkling and handsome. Harry was used to Howl’s vanity and ignored the change. Instead, he wondered just exactly where Howl was going. He remained quiet as Howl turned the doorknob to the black slot and leapt into an abyss that smelled of fire and brimstone.

It was strange, Harry thought, that Howl would be dressed to the nines for a war.

* * *

XIII.

“Calcifer, you really are getting soft in your age- to be so motivated from a mere comment,” Harry snorted as he fed Calcifer bits of his magic.

“It’s not me,” he insisted, mumbling around the shreds of magic. “There’s something about that lady. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about her.”

“You don’t have any fingers in the first place. Sophie… she has magic- she just doesn’t know she does yet,” Harry mused.

“She what?” Calcifer gasped, momentarily too surprised to take offense to Harry’s comment.

“Surely you don’t think I followed her all the way to the Wastes in the middle of the night out of the goodness of my heart,” Harry said, propping his head up with his hands. “No, her raw potential is even greater than Howl’s- greater than Sulliman’s, even. I would be a fool to let her throw that away.”

Calcifer gaped. “That demented old lady?”

“Come now, we both know that her state is actually Howl’s fault,” Harry pointed out. “Sophie has one of the kindest hearts I have ever seen. She’s incredibly powerful precisely because her intentions are pure, and magic is all about intentions. She will be great one day if she can get proper training.”

“Great enough to call you out of retirement?” Calcifer asked skeptically.

Harry chuckled. “You make me sound so old, Calcifer. Yes, enough to call me out of retirement. I vowed to never take an apprentice after how my last one turned out, but maybe I’ll make an exception for Sophie. She is a person who causes change in those around her.” Harry’s expression darkened at the thought of his last apprentice.

Calcifer blinked in surprise. “You are old,” he said bluntly.

“Perhaps,” Harry shrugged. “I should probably go and make sure she doesn’t blow anything up if she’s cleaning Howl’s bathroom. I hope she has the sense not to mess with his beauty products.”

Calcifer shrunk on himself slightly. “Yeah Howl wouldn’t like that.”

“No kidding,” Harry shook his head. “You won’t believe what a meek little girl she was before that curse- shy as a mouse and twice as quiet. If there’s one thing this spell did, it brought out her inner confidence.  Are you sure you’re not reacting to her because of Howl’s heart?”

Calcifer turned pink. Harry just snickered.

* * *

XIV.

Howl closed the front door quietly as he staggered to the chair in front of Calcifer.

“You’re back; welcome back,” a voice greeted him from the shadows. He panicked, suddenly worried about anyone seeing him in his state. His nerves were still frayed; he leapt out of his chair, a spell on his lips.

“Calm down- your vanity is suffocating me. Drink this- it will help with the pain of the transformation.” A potion was shoved under his nose; he recognized the voice and drank the foul concoction obediently. A gentle, but firm, hand guided him back to his chair.

“Harry,” he croaked weakly, ignoring the jab at his personality. “You’re awake at this hour?”

“Yes, it’s me. How could I not wake up when you were leaking magic everywhere? It might as well be a fire siren to my senses.” Harry touched Howl lightly on the shoulder, the first syllable of a healing spell already on his lips.

“You smell terrible. You shouldn’t keep flying around like that- sooner or later you won’t be able to turn back into a human,” Calcifer warned quietly.

“It’s getting harder and harder to transform now, right?” Harry asked solemnly, already knowing the answer. “Howl, you have to stop- otherwise your magic will turn on you, and you’ll lose yourself.”

“Harry, you don’t understand. This war is terrible. Everything from the Northern Coast to the Southern Border- it’s all in flames now,” Howl protested quietly.

“No, I understand plenty,” Harry’s tone was bone dry and weary. “I just wished I didn’t,” he turned away from the light.

“I can’t stand the fire and gunpowder. Those dopey guys have absolutely no manners,” Calcifer complained.

“I doubt they care about that,” Harry snorted.

“My own kind attacked me today,” Howl said with amusement.

“Who, the Witch of the Wastes?” Calcifer asked.

“No, that old hedge witch is nowhere near Howl’s level,” Harry snorted as he shoved a hot cup of tea at Howl with one hand and uncorked a bottle of healing salve with the other. The wizard warmed the water with a quick heating charm- doing it the old fashioned way would wake Sophie. With the vast magic of the castle acting as a buffer, Sulliman would be hard pressed to detect his spells.

“No, mad wizards who turned themselves into monsters for the king,” Howl replied and accepted the mug of tea with shaking hands.

Harry winced. He remembered the Unspeakable who created that spell. She lacked an innate animagus form and created a spell that was supposed to give her an artificial form. Instead, it turned her into a monster- an abomination. She lost her mind and had to be put down like a rabid beast. After the war and subsequent integration between the magical and muggle world, the Department of Mysteries was closed down- along with the rest of the Ministry- and their research was made public. Needless to say, a great portion of their work was used for nefarious purposes.

“Those wizards are going to regret doing that,” Calcifer said. “They’ll never change back into humans.”

“After the war, they won’t recall they ever were human,” Howl said grimly.

“No, they won’t,” Harry said, gently dabbing the bottle with a cotton ball. “I knew the person who created that spell,” he said slowly.

Both Howl and Calcifer turned to Harry in surprise. Harry refused to meet their eyes.

“Sometimes I forget how _old_ you are,” he snickered tiredly, brushing a gray tinged hand over his face.

“Brat,” Harry made a face at the laughing magician. “I’m young enough to remember when you had your hair in a page boy cut.” Howl stopped laughing immediately. This time, Calcifer laughed.

“She was an Unspeakable- back before the Merge happened, certain wizards and witches worked with the government to research spells and magic- some three hundred years ago. She wanted to achieve something called an animagus transformation- the magic is nonverbal, very difficult, highly regulated, and quite dangerous. It turns the wizard- or the magician, in modern terms- into an animal while keeping their minds intact. The animal they turn into is determined at birth, and she didn’t have one. So in her frustration, she created a spell that would give her an artificial form… except that spell turned her into a monster without a mind. She had to be put down like a beast,” Harry’s eyes grew shadowed as he remembered the auror team that was sent to deal with her. It was hard for everyone to see one of their own turn into a mindless creature of rage.

Howl and Calcifer exchanged unreadable glances.

“I believe the proper way to become an animagus has been lost with time,” Harry said with a shaky breath. “What you- and everyone else is using- is that spell. It’s a bastardization of the true process of animagus transformation. But even with the proper way of doing animagus transformations, staying in that form for prolonged periods of time… changes the wizard. My godfather was a dog animagus- a great big black dog- he stayed in that form for a couple of years, and his laugh sounded more like a bark. Another man- stayed in his form- a rat- for more than a decade. At the end of it all, he was more rat than man.”

Harry sighed and patted Howl’s head like he did when they met for the first time at Howl’s uncle’s cottage. The magician was just a boy then- all wide eyes and innocence and curiosity. He gently applied the salve to the scrapes on Howl’s face (Merlin forbid if his face scarred. Howl would probably melt into a puddle of goo in horror.) “You are strong, for resisting that spell as long as you did. But even so, it wears on everyone after a while.  I don’t want to lose you like I did all my other students. You were never mine, but given how my _last_ student turned out, you were probably the best thing that came from her .”

Harry’s voice was soft, and his eyes held a deep pain within them that spoke volumes of his age.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Howl said quietly.

“No, I misjudged her- now I carry the weight of my decision every day. I regret it with every fiber of my being. How many people have I killed- through that one decision? I disappeared from the magic world because I didn’t want to face my decision,” Harry said bitterly. “I’m a coward of the greatest magnitude.”

Howl didn’t have anything to say to that.

“Howl, you’re powerful for a magician, but you’re only one person. You’ll wear yourself down like this,” Harry said.

“I can’t let this war continue,” he argued back.

“Let’s say that this war ends- so what? Give this place another ten- fifteen- years, and you’ll have another one on your hands. Howl, what one person can do is limited. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.” Harry sighed and reached for a roll of bandages.

“It’s better than nothing. Not all civilians want the war.” Howl said quietly.

“I’ve long since given up on humanity,” Harry said plainly. Before his patient could argue back, he continued. “But the next time you do something this stupid, I’m going with you. I am not about to let you get killed- not if I can help it.”

Howl smiled weakly in surprise.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to report to the king?” Calcifer asked Howl. The demon turned to Harry. “Haven’t you already been called?”

“He has to- I don’t,” Harry answered. “I can report on your behalf, Howl. They can’t force me to work for them- I’m not magically bound with that thrice-cursed oath. Granted, any king would probably bend over backwards to get me in his service.” He flashed the man- now vaguely resembling a mummy- a too-wide grin.

 “I’m tired. Calcifer, make hot water for my bath in the morning.” Howl dodged the question and tried to get up. His joints were bound tight with bandages. He frowned- Harry was being abnormally talkative- and nice. Perhaps the man has changed from the cold, assessing mage he once knew, but that grin looked out of place- too big and too stiff. Like he was hiding something behind it.

Howl paused at the curtain covering the sofa. He brushed it aside lightly and stilled at the sight of Sophie sleeping quietly.

“Do you remember her?” Harry asked behind him. “Sophie, that is.”

“Yes,” Howl said, his tone puzzled. “From now and from… before.”

The response gave Harry a pause. _From before?_ “Funny thing is, I only know her because I moved across the street from her. Her sister was after me- as always,” Harry sighed.

Howl chuckled tiredly. Harry’s continued “misfortune” was as much of a running joke between the two of them as Howl’s vanity was. “I don’t understand. Why ever would you run away?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Not everyone is like you, Romeo. I guess you’ve realized what happened to her now?”

Howl nodded, but his gaze never left Sophie. Harry noticed that and sighed.

“Then you know that it’s your fault she ended up this way. Luckily, this curse isn’t unbreakable. Howl, she is pure and innocent- don’t hurt her,” Harry warned strictly. “Or else I’ll come after you. And trust me, you wouldn’t want that.”

Howl took one look at Harry’s nearly glow-in-the-dark green eyes and suppressed a shiver. No, indeed, he wouldn’t.

* * *

XV.

The next morning, Harry was woken by the loud sound of a water faucet opening.

Darn that vainglorious peacock of a brat, he thought. Waking me up this early in the morning. Harry yawned and saw that Sophie was also awake.

“What time is it?” Harry asked groggily.

“Just a bit before seven. Is Howl back?” She asked. Seven, Harry mouthed repeatedly in horror. Sophie ignored him.

“Yeah, wasting all my hot water like always,” Calcifer complained.

“Do you know anyone else who would take a hot shower at seven in the morning? Knowing that guy, he’ll probably soak for the next three hours,” Harry grumbled as he got up. “Don’t bother making breakfast until half past nine- it’ll just get cold.”

“Calcifer, can I mooch some of that hot water for coffee? You can have the grounds afterwards,” Harry stumbled to the kitchen, still half asleep.

“Sure,” the fire said.

Sophie looked at Harry’s unruly hair (it was sticking up at all angles possible), and then back at Calcifer before dissolving into giggles. 

“What are you laughing at?” Harry grumbled under his breath. He attempted to smooth down his hair, which only made Sophie laugh more.

* * *

XVI.

After breakfast, Sophie insisted on doing shopping, as the food in the house had spoiled.

“I don’t see why you would bother anyways- Master Howl hardly eats.” Marco complained.

“You mean he eats like a bird,” Harry snickered at his own joke, much to Marco and Sophie’s confusion. He waved away their odd looks. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You need the food, Marco. You’re a growing boy,” Sophie insisted, momentarily ignoring the odd wizard.

“She’s right, you know,” Harry agreed as he began picking out tomatoes with the speed of an expert. Even the old lady from down the street was staring at Harry’s tomato picking expertise. It was impressive to see. One never knows when the tides change. Besides, he smelled gunpowder in the distance.

Once the tomatoes were done, he moved onto the eggs and bread. He didn’t even wait for Marco to pay- he had enough money to last him for the next couple of millennia- easily.

“Sophie, hurry with the fish,” Harry insisted while grabbing two bundles of asparagus and a box of onions.

“What are you in such a hurry for?” Sophie asked, seeing Harry buy a large bag of mushrooms on top of all the groceries he already bought. She listened and purchased the fish with haste.

“That is why I told you to hurry,” Harry said pointedly as a badly damaged warship pulled into the harbors- the _SS Queen Anne_. He could hear the frenzied cries of the soldiers as they all abandoned ship, eager to be rid of the war. All the ones who jumped will be court martialed, Harry thought ironically. They’ll be dead by the end of the month. Moments later, bombs from an enemy warship dropped into the harbor. Those who escape court martial will perish soon enough, one way or another. The warship dropped pamphlets upon pamphlets of the missing and the dead- of which there are too much on both sides. Bile rose and forced its way to Harry’s throat.

“Come, it’s time to go,” Harry echoed emotionlessly as he dragged the two away. His eyes were glazed with the horrors of the past.

“Harry, the Witch of the Waste’s henchmen are here,” Sophie hissed.

“That third rated _hag_ , is a nuisance and not worth the space she takes up,” Harry snarled, momentarily blinded by his memories. His viridian eyes glowed with power as he layered on Notice-Me-Not charms and Disillusionment charms on Sophie and Marco. Their breath hitched, feeling the powerful blanket of magic settle over them. “She won’t catch wind of us- I made you two invisible and unable to be noticed.”

Sophie nodded in gratitude but shook slightly in fear. She never realized that Harry had such a side to him. He was powerful- very much so; she has never felt such power in her life.

When they arrived back at the castle, Marco put away the groceries dutifully while Sophie sat near the fire to catch her breath. She shot a concerned look at Harry, who sat on the couch, curled up with one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, looking worse for wear.

Without warning, a loud cry of anguish broke the uneasy silence. It rang throughout the house and even shook the windows. A loud thump and the sound of a door opening followed.

Harry jumped up at the sound of Howl’s panicked screams… only to see an auburn haired Howl trip his way down the stairs clad only in a towel.

“Sophie, you sabotaged me! Look! Look what you’ve done to my hair!?” Howl screamed in agony.

“What a pretty color,” Sophie said serenely.

Harry blinked… and blinked some more. Then his lips twitched. He howled with laughter. “Oh man, Sophie, this is great. So that’s what you did to that sewer of a bathroom. Howl, your hair looks fine. You could be bald, and you will still have girls tripping over themselves to land you in bed.” With that, he toppled over the couch, laugher coming in great whoops.

“That may  be true, but that’s not the point! It’s hideous! You completely ruined the potions in the bathroom!” Howl wailed dramatically, not noticing his swelling ego.

“I just organized things,” Sophie said nicely. “Nothing’s ruined.”

“I specifically ordered you not to get carried away! Everything’s ruined… I can’t live like this,” Howl sulked.

“Oh don’t be a baby,” Harry scoffed, leaning over a wall to catch his breath. “It will only take you another day to turn your hair back to blonde. You looked better with your natural color, but auburn’s not a bad color on you.”

“I give up- I see no point in living if I can’t be beautiful,” Howl announced with acting skills a queen would envy. His hair turned a variety of colors, ending with coal black. He ignored the snarky immortal in front of him.

“He’s calling the spirits of darkness,” Marco gasped as the castle began to distort, and shadows grew strange. “He did this once when a girl dumped him.”

Harry snickered. “A girl actually dumped him?”

Marco nodded, his eyes wide and still glued to Howl’s dissolving form. “Yeah, he was upset for weeks!”

Harry laughed . “Oh man, I would have paid to see that.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to be there, Harry,” Calcifer said, keeping a wary eye on the direction of the goo. “It was _awful_.”

“I bet,” Harry grinned, entirely too cheerful.

“It’s not that bad,” Sophie turned to comfort Howl. “We’ll just dye your hair back again.” She recoiled in horror as Howl’s goo form stuck to her hand and her dress. “Fine! You think you’ve got it bad? I’ve never once been beautiful in my entire life! I’ve had enough of this place,” she cried and rushed out into the Wastes.

Harry bit his lips with the urge not to laugh and not to hit the overdramatic man in the head. In the end, his sense of responsibility overtook both.

“Expecto patronum,” he sighed as Progs flew out from the tip of his wand. “Set this place straight, Progs. None of this idiocy.”

Marco gasped at the powerful light spell. “Wow, what is this magic? Can I touch him?”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged as Progs playfully butted Marco with his antlers. The child squealed. “This is called a Patronus. It is from the spell Expecto Patronum, which requires a very strong positive memory. It chases away all evil and dark spirits, as you can see,” Harry lectured, settling into his “teacher mode”. Marco settled down cautiously next to the glowing buck and patted his antlers in awe. In truth, Progs could eat these little baby spirits for dinner. They were nothing compared to dementors.

He gave Progs another couple of minutes to round up the spirits before addressing the dazzled apprentice.

“Well now that is done, let’s get Sophie back inside. Marco, there should be a jacket over by the counter you can take to her,” Harry requested. The boy nodded and quickly dragged a bedraggled Sophie back in. He looked down at the doorway to see Marco helping Sophie up the stairs. Turniphead the Scarecrow was nowhere in sight. How odd of Sophie to leave him there in the rain, Harry thought.

“Sophie, you’ll catch your death in this cold,” Harry scolded as he summoned a towel. He began to towel Sophie’s hair off.

“Howl, cut it out! I’m going to drown, I’m drowning!” Calcifer shouted desperately as Howl’s goo-form started to melt before the fire.

“That is enough of that,” Harry said firmly and formed a liquid repelling ward around Calcifer. One issue taken care of and a thousand more to go.

“Merlin, Morgana, and Circe. Small mercies,” the fire breathed and huddled away from the wave of goo.

“Such drama,” Sophie sighed as she wrung water out of her dress. “Come give me a hand, Marco.”

“No, Sophie. You’re sopping wet, and I won’t have you get even more soaked with disgusting goo. You won’t be the only person working in this household anymore,” Harry put a hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

“Besides, there’s no need to do manual labor when magic will suffice. Allow me- Wingardium Leviosa”- Harry easily levitated Howl up the stairs- at this point he considered the mage to be more of an amorphous solid and less of a physical body.

“Marco, the hot water,” Sophie pointed out from her chair, determined to actually do _something_ to fix the situation.

“There’s no need,” Harry shouted from the stairs. “I’ll handle this.”

Without further ado, Harry flung Howl into the bathtub without a care in the world and turned the hot water tap on high. The water splashed out in a tsunami wave. “You deserve the bruises, you overdramatic bastard! Now, get clean before I reverse that spell and stuff all your pores with that ridiculous goo! You’ll spend the next decade exfoliating that precious skin of yours if you don’t clean up right this moment!” He closed the door with the loud bang. Harry uncapped and upturned a whole bottle of detergent into the bath.

From her seat in the living room, Sophie heard a muffled yelp and the sound of gargling bubbles. Giggling, she moved to clean up the goo around the hearth.

* * *

“Sophie…?” Harry asked hesitantly as he flipped though one of Howl’s many magical texts. He was perusing Howl’s rather extensive library of library texts; it wasn’t like there was much else for him to do. “Howl…? What in the name of Morgana and Merlin is going on?”

When Sophie warmed some milk to take to Howl, Harry didn’t mind her in the slightest. He knew that the magician would most likely refuse- being the child he is. However, what he didn’t expect was Sophie emerging half an hour later with an obviously magicked dress and Howl clad in nothing but a blanket. He would give Howl a benefit of a doubt before he started nailing the boy’s hide to the nearest wall.

“I’m reporting to the King on Howl’s behalf as Pendragon’s mother because my “son” is too cowardly to do so. I’ll tell this Sulliman or whoever that he refuses his duty,” Sophie said.

Harry’s jaw dropped to the floor. The heavy tome of spells slipped from his grasp. Of all the harebrained ideas…

“Howl, you honestly believe that this will work?” Harry asked skeptically. “Actually, don’t answer that.” Harry pushed aside his chair with a sigh and picked up the fallen book. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a brief moment and said to himself “I’m too old for this.”

“We know,” Howl snickered tiredly.

“Shush, you,” Harry glared.

“I’m not going to let Sophie walk into Sulliman’s clutches alone,” Harry declared- (“That is so comforting,” Sophie muttered sarcastically in the background). “Howl, if you insist on this idiocy, then I’m going to have to go as your uncle. I remember what he looks like, so my presence should give Sophie’s cover some credence. And someone has to be there to bail you out if this all goes to hell.” After a moment, Harry added, “and it probably will.”

Howl considered the statement before agreeing. They both knew that his uncle was dead, but given Harry’s magical power, he can easily fool the guards. Besides, this was _Sulliman_ they were talking about. Extra protection for Sophie was not unwarranted, given the situation.

“Alright, give me a moment to transfigure myself into your uncle. Help me out here? I forgot the exact measurement of his waistline.” Harry pulled out his wand and began muttering disguise charms. He flashed through a multitude of looks and ages in a matter of moments.

“The nose is crooked- he broke his in a bar fight over a pair of redhead twins,” Howl pointed, still clutching to his blanket.

“Ah, thanks,” Harry screwed his eyes shut, and the nose bent itself into a slight lump. Well, at least now he knew where Howl got his tendencies from.

“Transfiguration?” Sophie asked, a bit startled by the magic. Meanwhile, Marco crowed in delight and gathered to watch.

“He had streaks of grey hair on his temples,” Howl recalled.

“Transfiguration,” Harry paused to fix his hair, “is the art of transforming one thing to another, in the simplest of terms. So the typical magican tricks, like turning a lily into a rabbit, would be transfiguration. It is quite handy for disguises, but transfigured changes do not last. Typically, the stronger the magician, the longer lasting the change. Even with the most advanced transfiguration, it is inadvisable to remain in the form for more than a month, tops. Also, transfiguring changes the appearance and physical characteristics of the item, but the actual nature of the item does not change. For example, if I turned a rock into a loaf of bread and ate it, I would be eating the rock and not the bread.”

Marco looked to be on the verge of jotting down notes.

“I see,” Sophie mulled over the information. Magic does have a strange sense of logic to it, to her relief and surprise.

“There, done.” Harry looked at his disguise in the mirror. In the place of a fit young man barely out of his twenties was a potbellied, middle aged, magician. “Howl, you are lucky I am nowhere near as vain as you are. But even so, you owe me for this.”

Sophie suppressed a laugh.

“Alright, let’s get going,” Harry sighed- even his voice changed from a light tenor to a heavier bass.

“Take care of him, Marco,” Sophie said.

“Good luck,” Calcifer called.

“Wait- this charm will guarantee your safe return. I’ll follow behind you in disguise. Now off you go!” Howl swooped down like a bat and slipped a ring on Sophie’s index finger. Harry frowned contemplatively at Howl’s gesture. It was rare to see the magician so taken with a girl; a suspicion began to form in the corner of his mind.

“I’ll keep Sophie safe for you” Harry called as he left the castle. He held out his hand- absently checking the spells in that ring, and also making sure that it _wasn’t_ over Sophie’s ring finger- and off they went.

Harry’s protective streak ran a mile wide. Of that, Howl as no doubt. He avoided her ring finger for a reason.

* * *

Mandy: This is actually a story that started almost a year ago after watching Howl’s Moving Castle. I’ll probably upload this in three chunks (maybe a total of around 30k words), but I have the majority of it (23k) already written and edited, so it shouldn’t take too long. This is one of the many stories that have been sitting around on my hard drive for too long, so I decided to upload it (partly  because it makes reading it on my phone much easier). Anyways, I hope you guys liked it thus far. I didn’t want to upload it until I was fully done since my update times are usually terrible (as my old readers know), but I wanted to give myself a reason to write the final scenes of the story.

The title of this fic, Iris, is from the song that the Goo Goo Dolls wrote; I couldn’t think of a good title and summary, and I had Iris stuck in my head anyways.

 


	2. Daffodil: Rebirth

Daffodil: Rebirth

* * *

 

**XVII.**

“Sophie, that dog isn’t Howl, but he is rather cute.” Harry chuckled. Over the past fifteen minutes, Sophie has been guessing Howl’s disguise with increasing hilarity. A pigeon? Hilarious.

“He isn’t?” Sophie asked, rather oblivious of magic.

“Do you really think he would lower himself to the form of a dog? No, he would not be so undignified,” Harry said. “Though he would probably be a miniature toy poodle if he did. One dyed pink at that.”

Sophie giggled.

“Is there anything you want to ask me about Howl or magicians in general? I know this is rather sudden for you, Sophie,” Harry said and strolled along the grey brick streets of the capital.

She hummed in thought; after some time, she said slowly, “Why does Howl have to report to the king? He said he took an oath?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “This oath started with the establishment of the magical academy here some time ago. It basically says that in order to practice magic here legally, all magicians have to take a magically binding oath to report to the king when summoned or in times of war. At first, it was meant as a safety measure against rogue magicians, but as time passed, the rulers started to abuse the system. Howl is actually one of the strongest wizards in the kingdom despite his age- all the stronger ones have already been taken. Predictably, they’re all dead now.”

“So that’s why they’re so desperate to get him to report,” Sophie exclaimed, a little alarmed by the fate that awaits Howl if he reports to the king.

Harry nodded. “And in this war, they need all the powerful magicians they can get. Now all they are left with mediocre or weak magicians without much use. A lot of knowledge and spells have been lost throughout history because the ones who knew them died before they can pass them on.”

“Howl is afraid to report to the king,” Sophie ventured. Though given what Harry just said, she wasn’t surprised.

“To a certain degree, yes. Howl values freedom above all else, Sophie,” Harry shrugged.

Sophie agreed, thinking back on the multitude of trinkets hanging in Howl’s room.

“Why don’t you have to report to the king, Harry?” Sophie asked. Beside her, the dog wheezed in what appeared to be surprise and ran around in a circle. Harry glared once at the dog.

“Do keep quiet, you. If you can’t breathe properly, then don’t breathe at all,” he said primly to the dog. “I predate the oath that Howl took. I’m old, Sophie,” Harry laughed at her incredulous look. “No, despite my appearances, I am really quite old. I was a magician before the oath was created, so I am not bound to anyone.”

Sophie Hatter fervently wished that she aged half as well as the man beside her did.

* * *

**XVIII.**

“Well this is a sore sight to see. The Witch of the Wastes,” Harry said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Hm, I don’t believe I know you, but since you are such a fine young man, I will answer your question just this once. I received a royal invitation from that idiot Sulliman. She finally realized that she needed my help,” the fat witch winked at Harry, giving him a hungry once-over.

Harry blanched all the way to the tip of his toes and hid behind Sophie- forget ruining his image. To his side, the dog wheezed out a laugh.

“Quiet, you,” Harry commanded with as much dignity as he could pull together, which wasn’t much at this point.

“She can see through your disguise?” Sophie whispered.

“No! She can’t!”  Harry hissed. “Apparently she either finds middle aged potbellied men attractive, or she’s after the male gender collectively. I’ll pass on the compliments to Howl’s uncle, who happens to be busy pushing up daisies at the moment.”

Sophie’s shoulder shook, and her lips were pressed thin with mirth.

With Sophie acting as a barrier between him and the Witch, the odd quartet made their way to the stairs. To Harry’s surprise, the dog couldn’t climb stairs.

“You can’t climb stairs?” Harry asked skeptically. “How spoiled are you, Dog?”

The dog barked once and ran in circles.

“Alright, cease that nonsense this instant,” Harry sighed, picked up the pooch, and began climbing- all the while trying to block out the sounds of a cow dying. “At least you’re well taken care of- that fur is very soft. I bet Howl would be jealous.” The dog wheezed out a laugh. “Sulliman spoils you rotten, you,” Harry rolled his eyes. 

Midway up, even Harry was starting to feel drained. “You are ridiculously heavy for a dog. I’ll be having words with your master about your weight.” Harry panted. Said obese dog wheezed angrily in his arms. “Oh Merlin, Morgana, and Circe,” Harry prayed as he turned around and saw the disgusting pile of blubber in fur and the trail of sweat it left behind. It _used to be_ the Witch of the Wastes. It’s certainly not anything now.

He turned around and promptly emptied his stomach on the pristine, polished boots of the nearest stiff-backed guard. The look he got was worth every second of burning acidic pain.

* * *

**XIX.**

“A chair! It’s mine!” The sweaty witch ran towards it with what’s left of her energy and immediately collapsed in it.

“You can have that all to yourself- I certainly wouldn’t want it after you,” Harry recoiled in disgust. “So I was right about you, Dog,” he sighed as the spoiled canine raced towards the end of the hallway.

“Come on, this way,” Harry sighed and waved Sophie over. Once both of them arrived, a side door opened to reveal a blond boy with a page cut.

“This way please,” he said politely. Harry nodded and followed him; he absently wondered if the boy was Sulliman’s current apprentice. He certainly didn’t look to be much. A cursory scan revealed a spark of magic- just a spark. Standards at the Academy have fallen greatly, if they’re admitting children of so little power nowadays.

The two of them were led to a warm greenhouse on the outskirts of the palace, where Sulliman was predictably waiting for them with a serving of afternoon tea.

“So, you are Howl’s mother,” she said to Sophie. “And Howl’s uncle, of course. It’s nice to see you in good health.”

Harry laughed good-naturedly and thanked her for her concern. Mentally, he rolled his eyes. Sulliman was playing around again- she knew full well that Howl’s uncle was dead and that there was a spell on Sophie. Very well then, since she was so deprived of entertainment, he would humor her.

“You two must be tired- please have a seat,” she offered mildly. Harry hesitated but followed Sophie.

“I am Madam Sulliman, His Majesty’s head Sorceress,” Sulliman said.

“That’s not your dog, is it?” Sophie blurted out. To her right, Harry- still in his disguise- sighed at Sophie’s lack of tact.

“Hm? His name is Heem. He’s my errand dog; I had him escort you here,” Sulliman replied.

“My! He is a cute dog,” Harry said genially. “You must spoiled him rotten.” He vaguely remembered the way Howl’s uncle talked and hoped that his memory served well. In his mind, he was going through the various ways he could assassinate his old apprentice with a rusty spoon.

Sulliman inclined her head and gave him a razor-thin smile. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. “I take it that Howl won’t be joining us?”

“He is such a lazy son. I’m afraid the king will find him completely useless,” Sophie shook her head.

“Your memories of him are surely fond, Madam Sulliman,” Harry vowed to never address Sulliman by “Madam” again, “but I’m afraid Howl has… changed from the bright pupil you once knew him as. I’m afraid I must agree with my sister on this matter,” Harry finished solemnly. He made a mental note to brush his tongue with bleach when he got back. Never will he ever defer to Sulliman ever again. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Sulliman sighed. “Howl was the last apprentice I ever took on. I have never seen such a gifted student; I was so thrilled to finally find someone talented enough to replace me. Then one day his heart was stolen by a demon. He never returned to complete his apprenticeship, and from that day on, he has been using his magic for entirely selfish purposes,” Sulliman told Sophie wistfully.

Harry thought to himself- so Sulliman knew the cause of Howl’s sudden change of heart- pardon the pun. It was merely a confirmation to his well-supported theory. Personally, he thought that Howl would do a poor job of commanding sorcerers to their deaths- even with his heart, the boy was mild tempered and shy. He lacked the maliciousness that the job demanded. He was a bit surprised to hear that Sulliman has not taken an apprentice since Howl. Surely the king would have asked that of her. 

 “ _Mrs. Pendragon_ \- that boy is extremely dangerous. His powers are far too great for someone without a heart. If he stays selfish, I’m afraid he’ll end up just like the Witch of the Wastes. Send her in!”

Harry was surprised that the sorceress even thought to warn Sophie. She even sounded genuinely concerned- how unlike her. But then again, Sulliman was confusing on a good day and downright unreadable on a bad day.

Moments later, Sulliman’s pageboy- now confirmed not to be an apprentice- wheeled in a severely traumatized puddle of old skin dressed in the Witch of the Waste’s clothing.

“What on Earth happened to you?” Sophie gasped and kneeled next to the unresponsive lump.

Harry grimaced as his stomach rolled once again.“Three guesses, and the first two don’t count,” he muttered. He nudged the skin with the toe of his boots. It didn’t move.

“I just restored her to the age she actually is; all her powers are gone now. Once, she too was a magnificent sorceress with so much promise. But then she fell prey to a demon of greed which slowly consumed her body and soul. Our kingdom can no longer afford to turn a blind eye to these disreputable wizards. If Howl reports and vows to use his magic to serve the kingdom, I will show him how to break from his demon. If not, I’ll strip him of all his powers just like her.”

“Well, it was mighty _kind_ of you to slay her demons for her,” the disguised wizard snarked, looking a little green around the edges.

In reply, Madam Sulliman only smiled thinly.

“That is enough!”  Sophie declared before Sulliman could reply. “I can understand now why Howl was so concerned about coming to see you; it’s a trap! You lure people with an invitation from the king, and then you strip them of their powers!”

Harry turned and stared at her in blatant shock. Even Sulliman looked startled for a fraction of a second before her face slid back to its usual expression of disinterest. It takes certain strength of heart to stand up to a magician like Madam Sullivan. He could see her innate heart coming through, slowly breaking past the barriers that she formed herself. Her magic is bright, Harry thought as he fought not to squint at her.

“Howl would never be so heartless. He maybe selfish and cowardly, and sometimes hard to understand-“ Harry wondered if Howl was hearing this. Well, he should be. Given his slight flinch somewhere outside the greenhouse, he probably was.

“But his intentions are good! He just wants to be free. Howl won’t come here; he doesn’t need your help. He can fix his problem with his demon on his own! I am certain of it,” Sophie said firmly.

Harry sighed. This was a really bad time for her curse to unravel- at least he knows how to undo the curse now. It will be hard for Sophie to stay consistently at such a high level of confidence, he mused.

“Now I understand; you’re in love with Howl,” Madam Sulliman said with a certain degree of academic interest- similar to that of a scientist.

Sophie gasped at the response, instantly reverting to an old lady.

“Howl? Did you say Howl? Is he coming here? I need his heart!” Even when reduced to such a state, the Witch of the Wastes clung onto Howl’s name with all her might.

“Oh shut up, you disgusting pile of blubber,” Harry sneered and brushed aside the witch’s desperate hands, not bothering with his guise any longer.

“Stop that! Howl’s not coming here,” Sophie croaked.

“Oh, I think he will,” Sulliman said when an aircraft flew above the palace. Still in the guise of a greasy middle aged man, Harry rolled his eyes. No aircrafts above the palace- Howl couldn’t make it more obvious if he tried.

“This is an awful time for your curse to act up,” Harry sighed and dismantled his disguise with a tap of his wand. “You know as well as I do that Howl never had the fortitude to be a commander.” he said to Sulliman. As an afterthought, he added, “Clearly, he is meant to be an actor, not a magician, judging by how overly dramatic he is being.”

“Harry, your disguise!” Sophie gasped as Harry’s appearance rippled like water.

“There’s really no point anymore now that your curse has unraveled a bit,” Harry shrugged. “I refuse to stay in that form any longer than I have to.” He easily repelled the grabby old witch next to Sophie with another flick of his wand. “And I will not have your grubby hands dirtying my robes.”

“Master,” Sulliman inclined her head respectfully, much to Sophie’s shock. “You look well. Perhaps you would fit the occupation better- the position is current unfulfilled. You may have it if you would like.”

“Don’t call me by that, Sulliman. I am no master of yours.” Harry’s lips were pressed thin, and he shook slightly. “I suppose I can’t say the same for you. You were gentle- once upon a time- though no more now. I want nothing to do with that fool king of yours and his even more foolish play-war.”

“Is that so? I never thought that my invitation would work so well,” she said pleasantly, ignoring his jibe. Harry’s astute eyes picked up a sense of… agreement radiating from her? How very strange and unlike the Sulliman Harry knew. “You’ve been hiding yourself, going even as far as to abandon your magic. Even I couldn’t locate you. Well, now I know.”

“And I did so with good reason,” Harry snarled. “I am not one of yours. You can’t bind me; you can’t force me to bow to that fool.”

“Oh, I know that you are well out of my jurisdiction, his majesty’s wishes aside,” she said mildly. “Howl however… I now know his weakness.”

“You won’t be getting your grubby claws on either of them,” Harry’s pupils turned to slits, and his words ended in a hiss. He grabbed Sophie around the shoulders, startling her.

“Perhaps yours as well,” Sulliman mused. Harry fought the urge to gouge out her eyes.

Harry’s magic whipped around him, stirring up fallen leaves. “You were my biggest mistake, Sulliman. Don’t make me end you.”

She met Harry’s eyes squarely, a smile still playing on the edge of her lips.

A dare- she was daring him to do it, Sophie realized. She thinks Harry is bluffing. 

Just then, Howl entered in all his glory, disguised as the most idiotic man around- the one who happens to be in charge of the country.

The pageboy opened the window with a bow.

“Your Majesty,” Sulliman greeted, sparing Harry another glance.

“As you were. So, how are you feeling? I thought I’d drop by rather than sit through a dull war meeting,” Howl puffed out his chest like the peacock he is. At least he didn’t have to pretend with that part, Harry thought.

“What an honor.” It certainly had two meanings attached.

“Who are your guests?” Howl asked, pausing at the sight of the protective and powerful Harry who stood in front of Sophie, standing between her and Sulliman.

“This is Howl’s mother, Mrs. Pendragon, and her brother- Howl’s uncle,” Sulliman introduced Harry as Howl’s uncle even with the disguise dropped.

“Ah,” he said. Sophie curtsied slightly, but no more than was barely acceptable. Harry refused to bow. Instead, he looked the “king” right in the eyes. The “king’s” moustache twitched. Clearly, he expected Harry’s insolence. “Thanks for coming, but I’ve decided not to use magic to win this war. We have tried using Madam Sulliman’s magic to shield the palace, but instead, the bombs fall on civilian homes instead. That’s the problem with magic, right, Sulliman?”

“You’re so eloquent today, Your Majesty.” The elderly sorceress pointed out.

“Sulliman!” An identical voice came roaring from the entrance of the greenhouse. “I’ve got a new battle plan! This time we’re going to beat them to a pulp!” The king spotted Howl and laughed- “Sulliman, that’s the best one you’ve made of me yet! Keep up the good work!”

“Your Majesty,” she greeted one more.

“Get my generals assembled,” he barked to a nearby attendant and walked out.

An awkward silence descended over the greenhouse.

 “So nice to see you again, Howl,” Sulliman said at last. 

“You look well, Madam Sulliman,” he bowed as his visage changed to his normal appearance.

“A rather weak disguise- I taught you better, didn’t I?” She asked.

“I’m sure you did,” Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I taught you better too. That king of yours is an idiot- how you can ever stand working for him, I’ll never know.”

A small smile played on Sulliman’s lips. “I suppose responsibility is beyond your scope of understanding, Master.”

Harry only hissed wordlessly at her.

Sophie snorted from behind a tense Harry, caught in the showdown between two generations of teachers and pupils.

“Now is not the time,” Harry murmured to Sophie, exasperated.

“I’m not trying to outwitch you,” Howl said mischievously. “I kept my oath. I reported when summoned. Now _Mother_ and I will go.”

“And what am I? Chopped liver?” Harry squawked indignantly, shock causing him to momentarily abandoning his anger.

“Eloquent as ever, Master,” came Sulliman’s mild reply. It was fringed lightly with just a touch of amusement.

“Oh shush you,” Harry said reflexively like he used to before he could catch himself. “And don’t call me that.”

There was a minute flash of fondness in Sulliman’s eyes, but it was gone before it could be noticed by anyone.

“I’m sure you can get out on your own.” Howl shrugged, addressing Harry’s concern flippantly.

“That doesn’t mean you can just leave me here,” Harry protested vehemently.

“I’m afraid neither of you will be leaving here today.” Sulliman tapped her staff on the floor and summoned a torrent of water. Harry instantly leapt into action and casted shields and bubblehead charms on all of them.

“Now, whatever you do, don’t look down,” Howl warned calmly once the tide of water receded into cool night air.

“It’s time to show your _Mother_ who you really are, Howl,” Sulliman’s voice echoed in the illusion.

“Don’t worry- you are safe,” Harry squeezed Sophie’s hand, careful not to leave Sulliman Sophie’s name.

Fallen stars descended all around them, turning into miniature shadows that took on the shape of a human. They surrounded the four of them and danced in a ring of light.

Demons, Harry’s eyes narrowed. Or perhaps a detailed illusion of the past. Is that what Sulliman was trying to do? She must be daft if she thinks we’ll stand still, Harry thought.

Howl’s glove morphed as his hands changed to claws, and skin changed to feathers. Sulliman’s forcing the transformation! Harry snarled audibly. That is cruel- especially given how much pain Howl felt in the process.

The transformed Howl lunged at Sulliman, who threw her staff at the raven.

“Stop, Howl! It’s a trap!” Sophie screamed, her arms wrapping around a transformed Howl.

“That’s enough,” Harry ordered harshly. His magic flared brightly and slowed the staff to a standstill. The dancing people were no issue to him- he had not used the forced transformation spell, so they had no effect on him. He ripped them apart, his magic turning into multipronged rays of light that lanced through each of the stars. Still, he would need to transport all of them out, and he could not risk splinching halfway- especially with Howl in a state of magical imbalance. Animagus it will be, he sighed.

“Don’t be afraid, okay?” He whispered to Sophie as he let his animagus free. Black leathery wings sprouted from his back, and his skin rapidly grew shiny obsidian scales. His spine elongated, and his form grew to many times the size of his human body.

“Bombarda!” Harry hissed in parseltongue. He directed his magic up. Suppressed for far too long and eager to be used, his magic burst forth in a storm of uncontrolled anger and shattered the roof of Sulliman’s greenhouse. It exploded outwards, shaking the ground and snapping tree trunks like toothpicks.

“Let’s go,” he said urgently and grabbed Howl, who held a terrified Sophie in his arms.

“Oh, and Sulliman, they’re under my protection- all of them. If you wish to cross wands with me, feel free to hurt them. You’ll remember why I was your master and not the other way around. I’ll be stealing your apprentice now! ” Harry roared from the skies.

Alone once again, Sulliman looked up at the hole in the sky and merely smiled.

* * *

**XX.**

Once out of Sulliman’s hold, Harry immediately dropped Howl which cued him to transform back into his human form. The blond magician landed on the plane that he doubtlessly stole.

“Hey you dropped me,” he laughed at Harry. “Hold on,” he said to Sophie and kickstarted the engine.

“Yeah, well you wanted to leave me behind,” Harry pouted as he too, transformed back, dropping back to his human form smoothly. “Like hell you’re leaving me alone with Sulliman.”

“Fair enough,” Howl laughed. While he was occupied with flying the plane, he failed to notice Sulliman’s dog flying towards them and landing behind Sophie. Since when can dogs fly? Harry thought skeptically. He had half a mind to kick the dog out if only to piss Sulliman off.

“Sophie, sit up here,” Howl said happily- a bit too happily for someone who just escaped from a spell. “Did you have to bring those two with you?” he asked.

“Can we kick them back out?” Harry asked instantly.

“No!” Sophie replied, appalled at the suggestion.

“They’re nothing but trouble,” Harry warned.

“No, you are not kicking them off this plane, Harry,” Sophie said sternly.

“You’re being too nice to them, Sophie,” Harry grumbled. “That’s the Witch of the Wastes and Sulliman’s spoiled pet dog.”

“Still, she’s not a witch anymore- her magic got taken away. And Heem hasn’t hurt anyone,” Sophie said stubbornly. Her tirade was interrupted by Howl, who tapped her on the shoulder.

“Sophie, take the wheel; they’re gaining on us,” was the unfortunate surprise. “Take this plane and fly it back to my castle in the wastes- I’ll distract them.”

“Of course they would send reinforcements. Why did we do this again?” Harry rolled his eyes and popped his joints. Time to get to work.

“I can’t do this- I don’t know the way!” Sophie panicked.

“Have some faith in yourself, Sophie,” Harry said, grinning. It did nothing to soothe Sophie’s nerves.

“Don’t worry- remember the ring. Summon Calcifer with all your heart- the ring will lead you back to the castle,” Howl said.

“For further reference, Howl, anything with heart magic works great with Sophie,” Harry shouted over the wind. The sound of buzzing wings was getting closer. “You lovebirds might want to hurry up here.”

Sophie blushed while Howl beamed like the sun.

“Why did you ask me to come here if you were coming yourself?” Sophie asked.

“Your presence gave me the courage to show up. That woman terrifies me! I can’t face her on my own. You saved me, Sophie. I was in big trouble back there.” Howl admitted.

“And she will keep saving you,” Harry agreed. “Sulliman’s bark is worse than her bite- you would have been fine. It helps I was there too, and I have enough magic to outmuscle Sulliman if I must. She knows that as well.” He vaguely recalled the terror of everyone at the academy in the face of a young Sulliman.

“Maybe for someone like you,” Howl roared over the wind.

Not for the first time, Sophie wondered about her neighbor’s mental health. She soon had more to worry about when Howl let go of the steering wheel, sending the party headfirst towards the top of a chapel.

“Wow, you’re good,” Howl laughed when Sophie frantically spun the steering wheel around while screaming in terror. “I can give you five minutes of invisibility, so use it wisely.”

“She’ll need at least ten minutes, with all that dead weight in the back seat” Harry argued. “What spell are you using anyways?”

“The one that uses Tiwahz as the main rune,” Howl said, confused. Harry shook his head. “No, that one drains your energy too quickly. Don’t use runes in an area like this, where you don’t have anything substantial to anchor them on- putting runes on air just makes them dissipate faster since air molecules are constantly in motion. Use blanketing charms and stack them instead. Here, use this one with the illusion and the disillusionment layered one on top of each other-“ Harry lectured as Howl listened in interest.

“Is this really the time to be debating spells?” Sophie yelled frantically. “Whatever you’re going to do, just do it now!”

Harry and Howl looked at each other, then at Sophie, and shrugged in unison.

* * *

**XXI.**

It was past midnight when Harry returned to the castle, dragging with him a barely corporeal, bleeding, feathered Howl. Harry limped up the stairs with some trouble- even he had bleeding scrapes, some barely healed.

If there was one thing Sulliman had in abundance, it was cannon fodder. Her time in the military was clearly not wasted; she pinpointed his weakness immediately. Powerful as he is, he is still one person. While he could handle those nuisances well enough, Sulliman had sent enough of them to cover the sun completely; Howl was already stressed from two transformations in such a short period of time, and he was the less experienced of the two. The monsters quickly focused on Howl, and Harry had spent the better part of his time protecting Howl. Between the two of them, they had taken down all the henchmen Sulliman had to send, but it had come at a heavy cost; Howl was magically exhausted and badly hurt.

With the multitude of offensive magic Harry used, even he was feeling the effects of the battle. He tripped over a loose floorboard lightly and coughed- out came a puddle of venom- laden blood. He grimaced as the floor started smoking.

“Oh man, this is bad- you’ve gone too far this time, Howl,” Calcifer fretted.

“I did my best to protect him,” Harry croaked. “I’m sorry. It was me Sulliman was after.”

Calcifer shook his head. “She was after both of you. You don’t look that great yourself anyways, Harry. I’m glad Howl has you at least when he does something this reckless.”

Harry grinned, but his teeth were covered with a film of crimson blood, to Calcifer’s unease. “Sulliman should be mighty short of monster henchmen right about now- she sent them all after us. She must have wanted Howl badly.” He paused. “Or me, probably.”

Calcifer shrunk in on himself. “And you made it back here? After Sulliman sent _all_ of her henchmen after you two?” he asked disbelievingly.

Harry nodded, wincing as the action broke a bite would over his neck. Immediately, he clasped one hand over it. “Almost all.”

“Wow,” the fire breathed.

“I’ll get him back to his room and see what I can do to fix him up,” Harry said, taking care not to jostle the nearly unconscious crow creature next to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t do more,” Harry shook his head, mad at himself.

“You’ve done enough,” Calcifer said quietly. “I’m not sure what state Howl would be in right now without you.”

Harry smiled weakly at the fire demon. “Thanks. Try to keep Sophie away from Howl’s room for a while- his mind is a bit of a mess right now.”

“Alright.”

* * *

**XXII.**

“Sophie,” Harry said, his voice soothing as he patted Sophie’s head. She had laid at the exit of Howl’s burrow, exactly where she had been left.

She sobbed uncontrollably, wailing as she clung tightly onto her first supporter.

“Shhh, by the time you wake up tomorrow, this will just be a dream,” Harry whispered. He ran a head through Sophie’s hair, which had fallen out of its braid. Slowly, her sobs slowed to a complete stop, and her breathing evened out. 

Harry had arrived just in time with a second set of potions to see Sophie confess to Howl- and then be rejected. He had immediately leapt after Howl, transforming in midair as the raven flew away from the castle on wings that Harry just finished healing. He dropped the potions in the burrow haphazardly and cursed as barely scabbed over wings sprouted out of his back.

It was almost dawn by the time Harry had chased down Howl and convinced the hysterical man to return. “For Sophie,” he had said. And now, said man was watching his true love sob her heart out.

“I’m sorry, Sophie- so very sorry,” Harry said quietly. “It’s better if you forget this- please forgive me. Obliviate.”

“Sophie can never break her spell now, you know,” Harry cradled the sleeping old woman in his arms. “Even if I make her forget, she has magic of her own to protect her. She will still remember this subconsciously.”

The man said nothing; he stared at Sophie with sorrow in his eyes.

“Dammit, Howl! She’s the only one who can break your curse, and you’re the only one who can break hers. If you love her, then quit running away,” Harry bit out.

“No, I’m a monster,” Howl breathed, holding his shaking hands up to his face. “A monster doesn’t deserve love. She… she wouldn’t want me. No one would.”

“You’re no more a monster than I am, Howl,” Harry seized the collar of the other man’s shirt. “Do you know how long I have lived? Six hundred years- six hundred god forsaken years. How many wars have I seen? How many people have I killed? I’ve bathed in blood more often than you’ve done in water. Do you think I don’t understand what you’re doing? Do you think I haven’t done all this before? I am far more of a monster than you can ever hope to be.”

Howl turned his face away, his bangs falling over his feathered face. Harry ran a thumb over the feathers, vanishing them with each soft touch. He had seen the older magician fight in his animagus form; it was utterly ruthless. He retained the ability to use spells in his form, hissing them out in a language unknown to him. The other man had _torn_ monsters in half at the seams- monsters who used to be humans like them- with no remorse. He had blasted them to pieces and reveled in their blood. He made them scream endlessly; the unearthly sound still rung in his ears. The bloodlust in his eyes was real, wild, and uncontrollable. It was as if the magician’s human form housed a terrible being.

“I hate to say this to you, Howl, but please don’t let yourself be the second biggest mistake in my life. You saw how my first mistake turn out,” Harry pleaded quietly before limping away with Sophie in his arms.

Howl stood gazing at the man’s retreating back, for once wishing that he had a heart to tell him what to do.

* * *

**XXIII.**

“Up you get, Sophie,” Harry’s smiling face greeted her morning. Sophie gasped and leapt up.

“You’re back! Is Howl back too?” She asked urgently.

“Yup, we got back not too long ago. He’s fine,” Harry said pleasantly. Behind him, Calcifer held his silence. “As if you’d expect anything else from me- I kept your man safe for you,” Harry winked. Sophie turned pink.

“He’s- he’s not… I- I should get to cooking breakfast,” Sophie fumbled and excuse.

“There’s no need,” Harry said cheerfully. “Howl overslept- he should be up soon. Though I suppose will have to factor in his daily three hour soak.”

“All the more important to get all the ingredients set up, but- the plane-“ Sophie glanced at the hole where the plane crash landed.

“What hole?” Harry asked innocently. “Everything’s as good as new. So, how about breakfast? Howl can have the leftovers. Or we can just leave him to starve; the human body can go weeks without food.”

Of course, Sophie wouldn’t hear of it and dragged Harry to the kitchen by the ear.

* * *

**XXIV.**

“Good morning, everyone,” Howl flitted gracefully downstairs, as good as new.

“How are you, Howl?” Sophie asked worriedly while setting down a plate of eggs and mushroom.

“Just fine,” he beamed back at her.

Given how many potions and spells I shoved down his throat, he had better be fine, Harry thought grumpily. On the other hand, _he_ was still smarting from magical exhaustion- nothing a good night’s worth of sleep wouldn’t cure, but his nights had not been peaceful as of late. Rather, they were plagued crimson dreams.

“That’s good to hear. It’s good to see you home,” Sophie said, feeling something heavy pierce through her chest at the sight of the man. What was wrong with her?

“Master Howl, we can keep this dog, can’t we?” Marco asked excitedly.

“The Witch of the Waste and Sulliman’s dog at my table? What possessed you to let them into my house, Calcifer?” Howl said jokingly.

“I didn’t let them in,” Calcifer protested. “Sophie crash landed her plane into my face!”

Howl laughed long and hard- very loudly for someone who almost died, Harry thought.

“Sophie wouldn’t let me kill them,” Harry protested. Said object of his complaints glared lightly. “I tried. It’s not too late to just dump them back out into the Wastes. If Sulliman really cares about her dog, we’ll just send her a memo or something and tell her to pick him up.”

He was kidding, Sophie hoped. Heem the dog wheezed angrily at Harry in protest. Harry bopped the dog on the head with a baguette.

“And what are you going to do? Blow hot air in my face?” Harry rolled his eyes at the angry dog and got up.

Just then, Turniphead, the rather tenacious scarecrow hopped his way to the table. Since when was the scarecrow a resident of the castle?

“Looks like we have yet another addition to the family- hm, you’ve got quite a nasty spell on you too. Seems everyone in this family has got problems,” Howl walked around the scarecrow which somehow found a way into the house.

“I take offense to that,” Harry called from the kitchen where he went to get a second helping of eggs. He paused- since when did he consider himself a part of this family? It was really less of a family and more like a wizard, an apprentice, a demon, and four freeloaders. Meh, semantics, he shrugged to himself.

“You’ve got more problems than the rest of us combined,” Calcifer called from the fire pit. Harry flipped the fire demon off- behind Sophie’s back, of course. That woman can be such a mother hen sometimes.

“That’s Turniphead. He’s the scarecrow who found your castle for us when we were looking for a place to stay,” Harry said upon returning to the table with his second breakfast. “I recognize the spell, actually. It’s an array locking spell- quite handy when used on inanimate objects but an utter pain to break when used on humans. I think he already knows what it takes to break the spell, but it doesn’t make the situation any better.”

“Really?” Sophie jumped into the conversation eager to help her friend.

“Yes- it takes a kiss from the subject’s true love. That’s why it’s such a good spell to use on inaminate objects- they don’t love.”

“I know that spell,” the senile Witch of the Waste said over a mouthful of gruel.

“Of course you do,” Harry said drily. “I’m sure you know how to cast it as well.”

The old witch merely stared at him unnervingly and said slowly, “My, what a handsome young man.”

“Can it, you senile old bat,” Harry snorted. “Something the matter, Sophie?” Harry asked when he spotted the troubled expression on her face.

“A kiss from his true love,” Sophie said, troubled.

“You see why it would be hard to break now?” Harry asked. “The chances of him finding true love is next to none as a human, let alone as a turnip on a stick.” Sophie nodded.

“I see- that is a strong spell indeed,” Howl said. “Then I guess I have you to thank for bringing Sophie and Harry into the castle.”

The turnip scarecrow jumped once and spun around. Harry wasn’t sure if that was supposed to express happiness or frustration. More likely the latter, seeing how Sophie was enamored with Howl and vice versa. The chances of Sophie seeing him as anything more than a friend was next to none.

“So, we’ve got a lot of work to do! We’re moving. Madam Sulliman is hot on our trail, so we’re going to have to hurry,” Howl said.

“Sulliman’s army of incompetent magicians shouldn’t be battle ready anytime soon,” Harry noted. “But a move would be appreciated. It’s about time to start tying up loose ends, and it’s getting rather cramped in here anyways. I’ll help,” he said while finishing the last of his eggs.

“You really are terrified of her, aren’t you?” Harry snickered to Howl as he slid his leftover toast into Calcifer’s gaping mouth. It was handy to have a pocket sized incinerator on a castle that can never stay still.

“Any sane person would be,” Howl pointed out. Harry huffed.

* * *

**XXV.**

Over lunch, Harry made up his mind.

“I suppose I owe you- all of you- an explanation,” Harry said and put down his fork. In seconds, he had everyone’s attention at the table, especially Sophie. She had been meaning to ask Harry about what Sulliman said during their brief meeting, but she didn’t want to push for answers- not to the first person who helped her through her new life.

“I’ll start at the beginning since it’s impossible to explain otherwise,” Harry chuckled. “I was born Harry Potter- over six hundred years ago.”

With the exception of Howl, everyone at the table gaped. Howl merely helped himself to more ham.

“I was from a time before the formation of this kingdom,” Harry nodded. “This part of the country used to be called France, you know. I lived right across the channel on the islands- they used to be called England. I believe it is a different kingdom now. In my time, people capable in magic and those who were not lived in separate worlds. We were called wizards or witches, and they were called muggles. I was educated in a private school called “Hogwarts”. It was a gorgeous castle situated in Scotland- to the north of here- I believe the area is just ruins now. There were many academies back then, but Hogwarts was the one my parents went to, so I followed the tradition and went there as well. I made two best friends, at Hogwarts. I was a kid, made my mistakes, and had fun doing so,” Harry chuckled.

Even Howl turned to listen to the tale- Harry was notoriously cagey- to see him open up like this was nothing short of a miracle.

“Back then, magic was much stronger, there were next to no regulations, and the draw backs were next to none. Thus, evil wizards called Dark Lords emerged- on average once per every generation or so. The Dark Lord for my parents’ generation and mine was called Lord Voldemort. In fact, my parents were killed by him when I was one. He was after me, and they died protecting me. I was prophesized to defeat him, before I was born. My parents had to go into hiding, to protect me. Even then, they only managed to stay hidden for a year before one of their close friends betrayed them.”

Sophie laid her hand on Harry’s forearm in comfort. He only smiled at her. The war with Voldemort was so long ago, the memories were barely a blip in time.

“It’s okay. It has been so long, I hardly even remember them anymore,” Harry admitted. “From then on, I grew up with my non-magical relatives, but they didn’t like me very much; I never even knew I was magical until a half-giant came pounding on my door and whisked me away to Hogwarts. My extended family did not mention my parents much, and I had no magical training whatsoever until I was eleven. I was really happy to be at Hogwarts though, and I soon called it my home. Despite the many attempts on my life by Voldemort, those were the best years of my life. Unfortunately, by the time I turned seventeen, war had broken out again. This time, I was expected to kill Voldemort and save the world sine my mentor died.”

Harry paused- he swallowed harshly. Memories of the inferi rose to the forefront of his mind. He took a deep, calming breath and continued.

“It took me a year, and a lot of people died for me- my mentor, my godparents, my friends…” Harry trailed off. “But I did kill him- in the end, he was my first kill, though certainly not my last. It was particularly hard because he found a way to ensure his own immortality. Had I not taken away his fail safes, he would never have died. His name, Voldemort, means both “flight of death” and “flight from death”; he was that terrified of dying, I suppose. In that battle against me, he failed to kill me for what seemed like the tenth time. He used a very potent spell- a killing curse. Anything this curse hits will die- no exceptions. The incantation has been lost throughout the centuries, and I have no intents to revive the spell. No matter what, the incantation of that spell _must stay hidden_. In theory, there is no way to avoid that spell, and I don’t want to know what the government would do with power like that. I was hit with this spell, and I failed to die once again- for what seemed like the tenth time. In effect, I had missed my proper time to die. I didn’t know at the time, but I did.”

“For a while, the world was peaceful, and I even held the equivalent of Sulliman’s position for a while- I was the top wizard. I had a wife and three beautiful kids. I helped run the government; I had a rather large say in how things were done. I began to notice my… issue when I turned fifty and still looked as though I was twenty. People started asking if my wife and I were daughter and son. I did more research and discovered the reason for my condition; it turned out because I missed my proper time to die, my body’s “time” froze. I can never die,” Harry said wryly.

At this point, Sophie’s mouth was permanently open. Harry closed it for her.

“I watched all my children, my grandchildren, great grandchildren, and however many more- grow and die,” Harry said flippantly. “It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Harry comforted Sophie, who was looking slightly more than distraught.

“I did a lot of good things; when I was almost a hundred, the muggle world discovered the magical world. It was inevitable, really. I helped a lot with the integration between those worlds; at first there was a lot of unrest, panic, and fear. It took a lot of effort, but I stopped that potential war from breaking out. I suppose I was in a unique position; I was respected by the magical community since I was a lord and a hero, and I was one of the few in power who understood non-magical culture,” Harry mused.

“Eventually, magic began to grow diluted as the two populations mingled; the non-magical outnumbered wizards by quite a number, so eventually wizarding government and culture died out as well. Hogwarts was no more than a tourist destination, and the other schools were much the same. It was around this time that this current kingdom was founded. I chose to stay here and establish an academy for children capable of doing magic. It’s very easy for those children to hurt themselves accidentally otherwise,” Harry continued.  Howl nodded- it was one of the reasons why he took on Marco as his apprentice.

“Everything went smoothly there as well- I held the title of headmaster and head sorcerer for a while before I stepped down and allowed the brightest of my apprentices to take on my duties. After that, I retreated into retirement and let the country grow. However, war quickly broke out over borders. I confronted my apprentice only to find that he had been twisted by promises of power and greed. He was nothing like the eager boy I taught. There was an old saying, from my time- power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. It rings true, in this case.” Harry’s eyes grew shadowed.

“My worst nightmare had come true- the non-magical integrated magic with their technology, and wizards were being used for war. At that time, wizards were hired, not forced to serve the crown. It was during this time that I tried to stop the war; I tried everything I could. In the end, I succeeded in stopping that war. I succeeded in stopping it by killing everyone involved. They literally stopped from a lack of soldiers and equipment” Harry said bitterly.

“You succeeded,” Howl echoed quietly.

“Yes, but at what costs? I can hear their dying screams- they all merge together after a while, you know. All those voices…” Harry trailed off. “In the end, I succeeding in stopping that war, but my actions indirectly caused an outcome even worse- the vow that binds magicals even today. The one binding you now, Howl. All my effort was for naught- in the end, I had only proved to the kings and queens that magicians need to be tightly reigned in. Luckily, they had only applied it to the academy, but it was enough to change the course of society throughout the generations. From then on, I fled from one country to another, too afraid to face my mistakes and the consequences of my choices. I took an apprentice here and there, but only sparsely,” Harry sipped on his tea.

“I continued like that until I returned back here a century ago. By then, the country was an entirely different place. War was still the norm, but a culture had developed around the war. I was happy there for a while, masquerading as a normal magician. It was around eighty years ago that I found a particularly promising young witch from the Academy. She was vacationing in the countryside when I met her.” Harry’s eyes glazed over.

“I remember- it was a hot summer night, and school was out. She was catching fireflies with her magic, and I felt it from the inn I was staying at. I went to investigate, and I saw her practicing. I went over to her, and I told her that her control wasn’t good enough- there were holes in that net, which is why the fireflies kept escaping. She was so innocent back then, and she… just clung onto me and wouldn’t let go,” Harry chuckled.

“I didn’t return to the Academy, but I moved to the capital and met her after classes every day. Her enthusiasm to learn reminded me of someone else- someone very close to me in the past. My friend was long dead at this point, of course, but she was my best friend during my time at Hogwarts. So, I taught the little girl the spells of this world, but her hunger for knowledge made her ask for more. I hesitated for a long time, but eventually I decided to _trust_ her,” Harry sighed.

“I did something I never should have done- I taught her the spells of _my_ world. The ones long forgotten and closest to the fundamental nature of magic” Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Howl grimaced- so that was how Sulliman grew to be so powerful.

“She didn’t teach you any?” Harry directed the question to Howl. The other magician shook his head.

“Figures,” Harry sighed. “Anyhow, she learned them quickly, as I predicted, and her power attracted the attention of the head magician back then. He took her on as an apprentice, and with an official master overseeing her training, I let her leave my tutelage. Luckily, her time with me was rather brief, and I didn’t get a chance to teach her everything I knew.”

“I wandered around for a while- I went everywhere, to different kingdoms, to lost frontiers- I just wandered. By the time I returned to the capital, the first of many wars had begun,” Harry grew shadowed.

“I immediately confronted Sulliman, who was no longer the little girl I taught in the afternoons. She was a different person then; she was drunk with power- both magic and in her official capacity as the head magician. As it turns out, she killed her previous master and absorbed his powers. She tried to challenge me and failed,” Harry smiled wryly.

“I almost killed her then- I was this close,” Harry gestured with his fingers. “But when I went to slit her throat, I hesitated. I couldn’t do it. She was… like a granddaughter to me, a vision of my best friend from ages past. And so, I fled again, like the coward I am.”

“From then on, I fought in wars for the next couple of decades. She taught that fake animagus spell to all of her students- I am sorry to say that I was the one who first taught her that spell. I couldn’t deal with my own failures- in between running away from my past and avoiding the future, I flew to battlefields everywhere and just… let my powers go. I probably killed more people than the entire army combined. I just wanted things to _end._ ”

Howl’s gaze was focused, though a hint of sympathy softened his look.

“When I heard that Sulliman had taken on an apprentice I flew back to this country again. It took me a while to adjust to life here again… everything has changed and been rebuilt, even the towns that I saw leveled and burned to ashes. I was amazed at the resilience of people- of _humanity_. I eventually found Howl through his uncle, and I stayed for a while.” Harry leaned back in his chair.

“Do you remember? I taught you how to make will-o-wisps,” Harry snorted. “You were so easily fascinated back then.”

Howl laughed lightly, thinking of memories from fonder times. “I accidentally used too much magic and singed your eyebrows off.”

“Yes you did,” Harry said drily. “Who gets surprised by the color of their own magic?”

Howl’s laugh turned into quiet chuckles.

“You were such a cute kid then- all wide eyes and innocence and wonder,” Harry smirked. “It’s a shame you didn’t keep the page boy cut though.”

“That cut wasn’t my idea- it was regulation,” Howl protested. “You could have stayed for longer.”

“I could have,” Harry shrugged. He continued to explain to his audience, “I didn’t stay with Howl for too long, for all he kept clinging to me like some kind of burr… I wandered around the country side for another decade or so, and by the time I returned, Howl’s uncle was dead, Sulliman was in a fury, and Howl was living in one hell of a bachelor pad.”

“Language,” Sophie muttered. “There are children at the table.”

Harry only grinned at her. “Just one, and I’m sure Marco has heard much worse, living with that guy.” Before Sophie could ask what exactly he meant by that (or inquire about the light blush on Howl’s cheeks) Harry continued his tale. “It took me a long time to track Howl’s Moving Junkyard down, and even then, Howl almost skewered me the first time I showed up in the middle of the night.”

“Any sane person would do the same,” Howl protested. “A stranger showed up in the living room in the middle of the night- what else was I supposed to do?”

“Your castle teleports; I wasn’t about to wait until the morning,” Harry rebutted. “Nonetheless, I stayed with that guy for a while. He hadn’t picked up Marco at that point yet, so I helped him run his magic store whenever he was too busy chasing skirts. We were both hiding from witches who wanted our hides, so we helped each other out. I stayed for a couple of years, but eventually, I grew tired and weary of life in general. I left a note on the table one day and just took off.”

“I thought Sulliman caught up to you,” Howl pointed out. “I didn’t expect to see you alive again.”

“Well, I can’t exactly die,” Harry said dryly.

“I didn’t know that then,” Howl replied.

“Anyways, I tried to settle in new towns and new countries, but no matter what I did, I could not make a difference in anything. All my effort was for naught; wars still happened. Towns still got leveled. People still died. I hated myself so very much back then,” Harry continued with his slightly more than morbid tale. “So then, I thought, if magic was the cause of all of this, then I will leave it behind. I cannot fix my mistakes, so I will endeavor not to err anymore,” Harry said firmly.

“So the antique shop…” Sophie muttered.

“Yes, I opted to live as a civilian,” Harry confirmed. “I locked away the majority of my magic after I left the castle.”

“But doesn’t that cause a magical implosion?” Marco gasped. “With constant production and no usage, magic will build up!”

Harry shrugged. “I shattered plates the first time I tried to clean them after I locked away my magic. Control is a very important thing, and this forced me to refine my control.”

“Between the castle and my lack of magic, even Sulliman couldn’t find me for fifty years- I know she tried every trick in the book, but there wasn’t anything for her to find. Undoubtedly, she will come after you with vigor now that she knows I am with you- and she knows how to track the castle now.”

At this, everyone at the table looked uneasy, the dog included.

“I can leave, if you want,” Harry shrugged and stood up. He stared pointedly at the dog.

“No,” Sophie said firmly and tugged him back down with more force than he thought was possible. “So what if Sulliman is after you? She is after Howl as well, so she will come after us regardless. Besides, you _helped me_ , Harry. I can’t forget that- a monster wouldn’t have done the same. You are no monster- please stop believing that you are. Even if Sulliman is powerful, we’ll face her _together_ , so _don’t leave_.”

Harry, for the first time in a century, was speechless.

* * *

**XXVI.**

“A bedroom for me too? How kind,” Harry said dryly. “You didn’t make a room for me the last time I was over. And here I was thinking that I’d sleep on the couch forever. “

What transpired at lunch was quickly brushed away from the surface of his mind, though the wizard is sure that his words lingered for far longer in the minds of his peers.

“This is the town where I met Sophie,” Harry noted as a train rushed past, billowing toxic black smoke.

“It is,” Howl leaned in the doorframe, his hair still midnight black. “I thought Sophie would appreciate the change in scenery.”

“I suppose she would want to see her ditzy sister,” Harry mused.

“The blond?” Howl mentally rifled through his directory of beautiful- and willing- women.

“It took you that long, huh?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I should probably check on my antique shop as well. If anything else, I would at least like the items back.”

“You can keep it open if you’d like,” Howl pointed out.

Harry only stared balefully at him. “You have seen the current direction of the war- this town isn’t going to last much longer than two weeks at maximum. This isn’t a social visit; this is a farewell. You’re giving Sophie a final chance to say her goodbyes to her friends and family.”

Howl did not try to deny the claims. He merely stayed silent.

“Don’t wallow in your guilt,” Harry laid a hand on the glass pane of his window. “She’s far safer here, even with Sulliman hot on her heels. At least here she won’t turn to ashes like everyone else.”

How’s eyes flashed in anger at the thought, his artificial form’s protective tendencies nearly overpowering the magician’s rationality.

“It’s getting close to breaking free,” Harry frowned and moved to Howl, but Howl caught his hand.

“You’re about to doing something reckless again, aren’t you?” Harry reversed the grip on his hand. “This is a farewell- for more than just Sophie- for everyone involved. You’re leaving the castle. You know Sulliman is staking out this town. You want to run away again,” he said disapprovingly.

“I…” Howl began.

“Don’t,” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare run away anymore. Just… listen for once, Howl. Don’t make the same mistake I did. It will cost you more than just _your_ life.”

“Whatever it is, I just hope that you know what you’re doing. I can’t always be by your side to bail you out.”

* * *

**XXVII.**

A quiet bell sounded as Harry gently pushed through the door of his antique shop. Everything was covered with a layer of dust, as he expected. His vast stock remained unpacked, kept in boxes that stacked up to the ceiling. The shelves were empty and covered with cobwebs of various sizes.

He carefully checked the ward stones placed beneath the floorboards of each of the four corners of the house. While he did not cast a ward on his shop, he did use the ward stones that Bill had given him for his and Ginny’s third wedding anniversary. Being a gifted curse breaker, he was well versed in wardsmithing as well. The wardstones he gave was a handsome gift, one that is designed and anchored with the strongest wards possible without a magical source.

It spoke well of his talent- the fact that these stones still worked so any millennia after his death. Harry charged the stones  as frequently as he dared, and now that his secret is out, he will charge them fully. He could hardly spend a day moving his antiques, so a strong ward to withstand the coming war will have to do for now.

Harry’s gaze roamed over the entire store, from ceiling to floor. He paused when it reached the front counter of the store- where he was going to put his cashier. On the old oaken counters, was a letter.

He walked closer warily, whispering protective and detective spells as he went. He dared not pick it up, for fear of any  traps or teleportation spells, but on closer inspection, it had on it the royal emblem.

And then, Harry knew that Sulliman had caught up with them. A beat. Then, another.

Harry glanced quickly at the handwriting- Sulliman’s handwriting. “Mr. H. J. Potter” was written in neat, looping cursive.

He would not touch anything of Sulliman’s- not now, when he could not afford to make any mistakes.

Hurriedly, he rushed away, slamming the doors as he went. He flung a clump of magic in the general direction of the stones and left in a rush. He needed to get back. Now.

* * *

**XXVIII.**

“I’m back,” Harry panted. As he had predicted, Howl vanished in the middle of the night. He didn’t try to stop the boy, though he was disappointed in Howl’s decision.

“Ugh, what is that _smell_?” Harry made a face and immediately ran to the source. He could feel the magic dampening spells imbibed into the tobacco. He knew it- Sulliman had done something while he was gone.

“ _You!_ Give me that cigar immediately”, Harry snarled and snatched the thing from the gnarled hands of the elderly witch.

“My, what a handsome young man,” the woman said dazedly.

“Save it,” Harry shouted and immediately banished the offending item. He ran to Calcifer next, who was barely more than a few glowing ashes. “Calcifer! Calcifer!” Harry shouted.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Harry said, exasperated. He took the bellows and immediately pumped some oxygen into the demonic fire, careful to filter it of any pollutants first. He absently sent out his magic to cover every corner of the room and vanished the smoke all at once. He noticed a small tendril of it sneak to the door of the castle.

It sunk into the metal handle but did nothing more; Harry frowned at the small piece of metal- now what is Sulliman up to now? He thought in exasperation. Alas, the door is Howl’s magic, and he would rather not mess around with that delicate piece of spellwork if he could help it. He will have to ask him to look over it later.

“Harry, what is happening?” Sophie cried.

“Sophie, did someone enter the house or give you anything recently?” Harry crossed his arms and frowned.

The girl thought for a moment. “My mother came for a visit,” she recalled.

“Your mother?” Harry prompted.

“Yes, she remarried recently and came to see how I was doing,” she replied.

“And did the new husband of hers happen to be in the military?” Harry asked while dropping a piece of firewood onto Calcifer. The fire demon mumbled tiredly in thanks.

“I… I didn’t ask. Is that important?” Sophie said hesitantly.

“Kind of?” Harry mulled over his next words. “This has Sulliman written all over it. She’s not above taking hostages to make others comply, but if her husband was in the military, then it’s highly likely that Sulliman ordered him to make your mother deliver a “gift” to you,” Harry said drily and crushed the cigar in his hands.

Sophie gaped for a moment before her temper kicked in with a vengeance. “Why I ought to…!”

“Do nothing,” Harry finished. “Better yet, don’t leave this house at all.”

“But!” She protested.

“Sulliman’s been turning over every stone in the kingdom for us, and now she has found us. What she wants- above anything else- is _you_ , to hold leverage over Howl,” Harry sat down with a tired oomph. And me too, probably, he admitted reluctantly. He didn’t say that out loud though.

“So the best thing you can do for now is to stay out of sight and within this house. Within this house, Calcifer can protect you,” Harry said as he whipped out his wand and started casting protection wards. “Unfortunately, your harebrained boyfriend,” he ignored Sophie’s weak protests of ‘he’s not my boyfriend’ and continued. “is off to get himself killed with what he’s doing, and I have to keep him from going off the deep end. I don’t want him dead, and if he did die, I’d drag him back to life and beat him over the head with a frying pan.” Harry said.

He is kidding, I think, Sophie thought uneasily.

“You can do that?” Marco exclaimed. Even the dog stared at Harry.

“Sure I can,” Harry shrugged, to Sophie’s surprise. “I can’t make him _stay_ alive, but I can bring him back to life for a little while- definitely enough for a good scolding. Though most departed souls don’t like to live again- most are in a hurry to get back to their realm of peace.”

“Then your friends,” Sophie began.

“I can call them anytime I wish, and they would not complain, but they are resting,” Harry said drily. “Besides, I don’t want them to see the state of the world they gave their lives for.”

There was nothing Sophie could say to that.

Soon afterwards, the skies darkened, and the wheezing of bombs falling through the air met Harry’s sensitive ears.

“Uh oh,” Harry said moments before the first bomb hit the outskirts of the town.

“What- what on Earth?” Sophie gasped as the foundations of the castle shook with the force of the impact. Marco raced to the windows to take a peak.

“No, Marco,” Sophie shoved the child away gently and closed the windows, shutting the curtains as she did.

Harry grimaced. “Sulliman’s pulling out all stops- she’s bombing this town way ahead of the current warpath.”

“Oi, Calcifer, you alive back there?” Harry called, projecting his voice.

“Urgh. Don’t talk to me,” the fire’s voice wavered with exhaustion.

“Guess you are,” Harry mused. He turned serious when he addressed Sophie. “Sophie, no matter what you do, do NOT head out that front door.”

“No!” She cried, tears in her eyes. “I have to check on the shop!”

“Sophie, it’s dangerous,” Harry said firmly as another bomb shattered the windows altogether.

“Get down!” Harry yelled and pulled Sophie down, along with Marco and the Witch of the Waste.  “Reparo! Reparo! Reparo! Damn, that Sulliman,” he cursed as the shards of the window regathered pieced together in their original form. 

“Sophie, _listen_ to me. Sulliman will stop at no ends to get her hands on you. You _have_ to stay here, do you understand? Do _not_ argue with me on this one. Now is not the time for stubbornness.” Harry shook Sophie roughly by the shoulders, his mind running a mile a minute.

“This- this is my fault,” she sobbed. “The hat shop- my father’s lifelong dream! Lettie!” Then she gasped, as if remembering something more important than any of the previous combined. “Howl!” She fought out of Harry’s grasp and bolted out the front door and slammed it shut on her way out.

Sophie’s curse is really annoying, Harry thought to himself as Sophie visibly shrunk several sizes and squirmed her way out of Harry’s hands.  “Morgana’s tits, Woman” Harry cursed, exasperated beyond belief. Where was that demure, mouse-like girl again?

He hesitated briefly for a second, glancing back at the quivering Calcifer who looked as if he could barely light a candle, let alone stand against Sulliman’s forces. Harry felt indecision grip him- was that fear? How long has it been since he has last felt genuine fear? Yet he feared not for himself- oh no, he gave up his right for that a long time ago- but rather, he felt fear for the people who have managed to worm their way into his cold, dead heart in these past few months.

 


	3. White Heather: Protection, Wishes will come true

White Heather: Protection, wishes will come true

* * *

 

**XXIX.**

He thought for a moment, taking a few precious seconds to organize his thoughts. “Calcifer,” Harry’s tone was serious. He knelt by the hearth and began writing runes on the stone, his finger moving faster than any pen. The runes blazed with magic with every stroke.

“Yeah,” the fire demon replied, too tired to argue.

“I need you to keep Sophie and everyone else safe. I… I can’t stay here with you,” Harry said quietly as he made his way around to the other side of the fire pit, runes following his every step. “Howl is very, very close to losing his mind. I fear if I don’t follow him, he will lose what’s left of himself. I can’t leave Sophie and you lot here defenseless either. ”

“Look at me! Do I look like I can do anything in this state?  You’re just as crazy at that old lady if you think I can do anything right now! You know better than that!” the fire bit out.

“I’m not asking you to do it without help,” Harry said with calmness he did not feel. He moved swiftly to the windows, the stairs, and the door, writing runes as he went. Marco watched with hitched breath and marveled at the strength written in every line. The air was thrumming with power as Harry let his magic loose.

“Marco, get me something of Sophie’s,” Harry said softly. “Clothes, hats, anything recent will do.”

Marco tripped over himself to do as he was told.

“Calcifer, I don’t know what Sophie will do,” Harry admitted quietly. “I can’t predict her; her presence alone changed the future, and her magic is still uncontrolled.”

“That’s great,” Calcifer said sarcastically. “You’ll have to tell me what that has to do with anything one of these days.”

Harry ignored Calcifer’s attitude and took a deep breath. He reached deep inside him, his magic coming out in visible waves.

“If I give you something of mine, will you swear to keep them alive?” Harry said quietly, his eyes glowing an eerie green.

“Demons don’t swear,” Calcifer scoffed. “You know that.”

“What if I give you your greatest wish?” Harry temped. He knew without a doubt that for all of Calcifer’s (questionable) friendliness, he was a demon to the core. “I can give you what you’ve always craved- what your kind will gladly die for- I’ll give you immortality. How’s that?”

Calcifer’s breath hitched. Even the Witch of the Waste was quiet, not daring to interrupt.

“You can’t do that,” Calcifer accused. “Quit bluffing.”

“I can,” Harry replied calmly. “You hold part of Howl- I can’t say which part,” he glanced at the elderly witch who once chased Howl across the continent. “He is powerful, but I am even more powerful than that. You were dying when you took- when you took that part of Howl- weren’t you? It’s why you accepted him. You were falling then, and you’ll fall now if I do nothing.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t…hold more than one of them at once,” Calcifer scoffed.

“I’m not asking you to,” Harry said. “I’m the Master of Death. I _can’t_ die. I hold mastery over death. While mortals seem to have forgotten the lore, I am to assume that you know them, demon?”

“I didn’t think you were real,” Calcifer muttered. Even among demon lore, the tale of the three brothers was known far and wide.  Countless scores of demon have given their lives to find the Hallows. Their efforts were in vain.

“Well, I am,” Harry said and pulled out his pendant- one of the deathly hollows symbol. Calcifer’s fire grew white with greed as his demonic side emerged.

“I’ll give you my soul,” Harry offered before Calcifer could say anything.

Calcifer- in his demon form- gawked for a moment before reaching out at Harry. Harry held up a finger stopped him with the next words he spoke “Only a very small sliver though- enough to for your “immortality” to last a half a decade or so. If my predictions are correct, that should be more than enough time for the war to come to an end.”

“You must think extremely poorly of me if you honestly believe I’ll give _all_ of my soul to a demon,” Harry scoffed. “The most I can safely part with is a sliver. Even at that it will take my core at least double that time to regenerate it,” he grimaced, a hand pressed tightly to his chest.

“But,” he said seriously, “My soul has enough power for you to do anything you want. You will not die no matter what happens- as long as that sliver lasts. In return, I ask that you stay with Sophie, Marco, and the rest. Protect them with all the power you hold at your disposal and await my return. I expect them alive and in one piece; do we have a deal, Demon?”

Calcifer thought for a split second, weighing his opinions, before agreeing. “Deal, Master of Death.” There was a sinister hiss at the end of his words.

Harry nodded and reached deep inside his core- as deep as he could manage. He sunk into his very being and _pulled_. He had time for a deep breath before the pain hit. It was indescribable _agony_ , ripping apart his soul- even a small sliver took his breath away, and he dropped to his knees. He bent over in half, his form quivering from the effort not to burst out screaming. The small sliver moved away from him slowly and floated to an eager Calcifer. Immediately, Harry restrained the instinctual urge to seize the soul piece.

Calcifer’s mouth gaped wide, and Harry gritted his teeth as _his soul_ disappeared down that ball of fire.

“It is done,” Calcifer’s voice boomed as his fire rose to greater heights than ever. His form pulsed with power as the castle instantly fixed itself.

Harry gasped, feeling a sharp searing pain in his soul. His mind blanked from the pain, and pain was all he could feel.  Tears leaked out of his eyes as he bore the unspeakable _agony_ of tearing his own soul.

“Ha-Harry?” Marco’s voice, Harry thought dimly.

“Yeah,” He breathed, slowly propping himself back up on the elbows. “You have the clothes? Good. Bring them over here.”

“What… What did you do?” Marco asked timidly, fear and awe coloring his voice in equal parts. He obeyed, walking over to dump a mountain of clothes on the center of the living room.

Harry took a deep breath. “Something I really shouldn’t have done. It was necessary though; with your master going off on his own like that and Sulliman’s army after Sophie, Calcifer needed to recover his full strength and protect her.” he tacked on quickly. He could hardly believe that he went to such lengths to protect these people (who were strangers to him not a year ago). But, they were precious to Sophie – and to some extent, Howl. That in itself was enough. Maybe he was just a romantic at heart, but something tugged at him. Feelings of nostalgia maybe, at seeing this young couple try to survive in a war torn world. Still, he was much more adept at taking away lives than saving them. Human lives are so fragile; they are merely candles, their flame flickering and fading with every gust of wind.

“Harry?” Calcifer asked quietly, having reverted back to his normal form. Was there worry in his tone? Harry couldn’t tell.

With shaking hands, he reached into his moleskin pouch and withdrew several potions. He downed them in succession, feeling the pepper up and revival potions restore him to health. The wound in his soul would take much, much longer to heal, but for now, potions will tide him over until time can mend his torn psyche.

He tossed the empty vials back inside his bag and traced runes around the pile of clothing. His hand still trembled from the after effects, but the runes were legible enough. When he finished making a complete circle, he pulled out the Elder wand and said firmly,

“Fidelius,” he intoned after focusing his intent on the incantation and the runes around the house. He locked onto Sophie’s magical signature. Dimly, he could feel Marco’s, the Witch’s, Calcifer’s (and Howl’s, from within Calcifer), and even the dog’s (no dog should have a _magical_ signature, he thought in the back of his mind). He included them all into his spell, saving his own signature for last. He would be the secret keeper; no one would be able to wrest the secret away from him.

The elder wand felt strong in his hand, the wood pulsing with comforting power. It had more or less developed a mind of its own in the millennia since its creation by Death. By the looks of it, the wand approved of his actions this time and would lend its owner the power he needs.

With one last burst of magic, the castle lit up like a supernova, as its inhabitants squinted against the light.

In the center of the living room knelt Harry, who was breathing heavily. He knelt on all fours, wincing as he did.

“Harry?” Calcifer prodded cautiously with a small lick of flames. As a demon, he knew how exhausting it was to pull a soul. The control he has must be immense, the demon thought to himself. To pull a sliver of such small size was impressive. Most unpracticed magicians either sacrificed their soul whole or in half the first time they try to offer it for a demon. Yet Harry had pulled a sliver- barely enough to pick his teeth with- yet it was undeniably powerful.

“I’m fine,” he panted, tiredly swatting away the flames. “This ward just takes a lot out of me.”

“What is this?” Marco asked in wonder, touching a window frame gingerly.

“It’s a ward called the Fidelius,” Harry replied.

“The Fidelius,” the Witch of the Wastes breathed, lucid for a short while.

“You have heard of it- I’m surprised,” Harry made an admirable effort to pick himself up. “It’s a very powerful ward- possibly one of the most powerful- from my world. The process of laying down the ward has been lost since then since the number of people who can cast it are few and far in between. With this ward, anyone I didn’t include in the ward will not be able to find this castle. Unless they get the location from the Secret Keeper, no one can detect, touch, see, or feel this place. Anyone who knew of this location will forget.”

“Wow,” Marco breathed.

“I set myself as the secret keeper, of course” Harry ran a hand through his hair, willing his dizziness away. He had work to do, and he can’t afford to be at less than perfect right now. “Sulliman won’t be getting the location of this place out of me no matter what she pulls.”

A soft ring woke Harry from his thoughts. He turned to see Sophie supporting a winged Howl, who hobbled along. Both looked rather dazed.

“Still alive, I see,” Harry said drily. “I told you not to go outside.”

“I… Those blob men,” Sophie said, perplexed. “They were chasing me, and they just suddenly stopped. Did you do something, Harry?”

“I made sure you wouldn’t get killed, that’s what I did,” Harry sighed. “I knew that your knight in armor would swoop in and save the damsel in distress.”

Sophie flushed bright red- in anger or in embarrassment, Harry didn’t know.

Howl laid a feathered hand on the walls, his expression tight with unvoiced confusion. He glanced at the doorway and then at the blob men who hovered out in the streets, wandering aimlessly.

“Harry?” He asked at last. He raised a single eyebrow, noting the other wizard’s gaunt appearance and the brightness in Calcifer’s fire.

Something is definitely off, he thought. His heart was tethered to Calcifer in every way possible, and he definitely felt something change.

“I raised the Fidelius,” Harry said as an explanation. Howl’s other eyebrow went up, and they both shot to his hairline.

“The Fidelius,” he echoed in wonder. Well, that explains Harry’s rather pale appearance. Or perhaps it was something else; the Fidelius should not affect Calcifer so.

Harry nodded.

“Who is the secret keeper?” Howl asked.

Rolling his eyes, Harry pointed at himself.

“I see… you have my thanks,” Howl chuckled. With that, Sulliman would be hard pressed to find the castle. Impossible, really. Still, that doesn’t explain everything. He will have a long talk with Harry later, assuming they survive that long.

“So… I see Sulliman made good use of the witch’s magic,” Harry said as he pulled open the curtains. “Those blob henchmen are your specialty after all,” Harry snorted.

“They won’t move against me,” the old woman said dreamily.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Harry snorted. “They’re not yours anymore.”

Another round of bombing struck the small town- this time, the bombs landed on either side of the castle. The roof once again shook, but the infrastructure held. Harry turned away from the windows and showed himself to a chair. He sat down heavily and began reorganizing his magical core. He needed to patch himself up and get himself battle ready. With a deep sigh, he sank deep into his own core and ignored the world.

“Sophie” Howl said gently. “I have to go- stay here, and Calcifer will keep you safe.” Howl’s feathers ruffled as he prepared himself for takeoff.

“No wait, Howl!” Sophie leapt forward and hugged him tight. “Don’t go out there- it’s too dangerous!”

“Another wave is coming, and Calcifer’s can’t stop them all,” Howl said. I think, he thought to himself; he had no way of knowing- or figuring out- what Harry did in the short time that he had left.

“Let’s run- don’t fight them anymore, Howl,” Sophie said tearfully against his back.

“Sorry, I’ve had enough of running away, Sophie. And now I’ve got something I want to protect- it’s you,” Howl confessed.

Sophie gasped, loosening her hold just enough for Howl to slip past her and into the warzone.

“Come back,” she yelled. She ran towards the door, but Harry’s eyes snapped open. He got up and grasped her hand tightly by the wrist. In truth, he had but a moment’s reprieve, but a moment was all that was needed for an experienced wizard like him.

She looked back at Harry, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. In reply, he merely shook his head. “No, Sophie. You’re safe as long as you stay within the castle. If you go out, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“I don’t care! Howl is out there!” She screamed back at him.

“And why is he out there?” Harry asked calmly and held her wrist tighter. “He’s doing this for you, Sophie. Out of the years I’ve known the boy, he has never really stood his ground. He avoids confrontations- it’s in his nature to do so. He’s a dreamer, not a fighter. He’s an idealist to the core, but even then, _he will face reality for you_. Don’t throw that away, okay? Don’t make his sacrifice worth nothing. And it will be worth nothing- if you end up hurt, or yet worse, dead. He loves you, Sophie.”

At the word ‘love’, Sophie broke down completely. She allowed harry to tug her close, allowing his arms to hold her in safety and comfort. Her shoulders shook as exhaustion and fear overtook here.

As Harry held her, he closed his eyes, thinking of the times he held his children after their nightmares, or his wife after her flashbacks. He did as he ways did and hummed a lullaby to her. He didn’t rush, and he didn’t count the time until she calmed down. Harry merely stayed with her and allowed her a place to relieve her burdens. In the meantime, he gave his magical core another once over to make sure that he would hold for now.

“Better?” Harry asked quietly. He could feel her magic latching onto his- not draining, but merely _helping_ his core recover. He welcomed the help with all the weariness he felt.

Sophie sniffed and nodded. She took a deep breath to pull herself together and stood up a bit straighter afterwards.

“Good,” Harry said, turning his sight back to the windows. Bombs fell around them, shaking the castle once more. Yet, the castle held.

“Sophie,” Harry had softly. “Listen to me- and I do mean _Listen_.”

She nodded, glancing at the hand grasping her right shoulder.

“There is a war going on out there, and both Howl and I want to keep you _safe_. Now, I know this is scary, and this is nothing like what you’re used to. You’re scared, and that’s _okay_. But whatever you do, stay here, okay? There’s a reason why we don’t want you out there- there are spells and bombs flying back and forth, and we can’t always protect you. I laid down some spells all around the castle- they should keep you safe _if you stay here_. As much as I would love to, I cannot stay here and help you through this, Sophie. Howl- I have to go and keep him safe. He’s… not in a good state right now, and I have to go make sure that he will come back from this alive.”

Sophie sniffled, but the determination in her eyes is strong enough. “Will you? Will you keep Howl safe?”

“I’ll do my very best, Sophie,” Harry admitted. It isn’t a promise, and Sophie knew that as well.

Her breath caught- and then a beat. “Alright, I’ll stay here.” She glanced at Marco, Heem, and the elderly Witch of the Wastes. They _depended_ on her, and she wanted to leave them behind? She shook her head lightly to clear it.

“Good girl,” Harry nodded and gave her one last hug. “Be strong, okay? Be strong for Howl and wait for him to come back- be here so he has something- _someone_ \- to come back to.”

With that, Harry left for the door.

* * *

 

**XXX.**

Liquid fire dyes the skies a bright orange as explosions send screams and cries of terror high into the air. Grey clouds of billowing smoke obscure the stars as magicians and soldiers frantically fled. A portion of them- monsters, puppets controlled by terrified and inexperienced puppeteers- flew towards the single feathered shadow laying waste to a nearby warship.

They sent spells and poison towards the creature, who only paused to swat them away, all reason gone from his bright eyes.

The Great Magician Howl has been reduced this. An incoherent creature of war- mindless and heartless- the monster that mothers always told their children about at bedtimes. The monster that women saw only briefly in their counter with him.

More bombs and monsters rained on him, and he cried out loud- a loud, bloody screech- as they hit their target. Gushes of ink black blood came from his numerous wounds. They matted his feathers like a sticky tar, making him even less mobile.

Then, a face flashed in his hazy mind. A braid of starlight, eyes full of wonder, and a shy smile. With a roar, he opened his wings and flew into the depths of hellfire.

 An enraged roar tore through the skies and shook the earth- both sides of the battle paused hesitantly as time seemingly halted for a brief moment. Lightning arched through the air and casted a winged silhouette across the battlefield.

Grey clouds spun into a funnel as air drew into the mass growing in the sky. It drew everything around it into a spiral downwards. The monsters close by were unable to escape the force as they were tugged down and pressed into nothingness by the pressure from above. Then, a bright flash of emerald fire came, lancing through a battalion of warships. One by one, sirens sounded as they were plucked out of the air and sent spiraling down. Fire rained through the sky as soldiers and airships alike met their ends. Reinforcements hesitantly waited by the sideline, wisely keeping out of the span of the storm.

Another pulse of white light and a large black shadow emerged from the dark clouds. A head snapped out, its large maw closing around an unfortunate magician from within the command center of a ship. Large teeth shredded the poor soul into ribbons as the spiraling horns made quick work of the rest. Leathery wings covered with obsidian scales swatted smaller planes out of the sky, and a strong spiked tail knocked back any who dared approach the large wyvern.

To the horror of his enemies, they saw _intelligence_ and _coherence_ in the large slitted emerald eyes. Unlike Howl, who has lost his senses to the monster in him, this magician was fully conscious and very much capable of strategy. That alone, made him a far more dangerous enemy.

With a strong beat of his wings, Harry launched himself up into the air and hovered protectively over Howl. His great wings shielded the other magician from the bombs that aim for both of them. They splashed harmlessly off his wings, the acid and the gunpowder merely dust to be blown away.

Startled, Howl turned upwards and attempted to bite Harry. Instead of dodging, Harry held Howl down with one clawed feet and touched his snout to the base of his neck.

 _‘Come back,_ ’ Harry called. _‘Don’t lose it- not now. Sophie’s waiting for you._ ’ He coaxed the magican out and locked him in place. Howl blinked as he came back into his senses. He peeked out of the mass of feathers that sprouted from his body. Gashes healed as Harry called upon his magic to repair the wounds.

And now, it was time to rain hell upon their enemies.

* * *

**XXXI.**

A sharp jolt shook Harry out of his reverie. He tossed aside the headless body of a soldier- barely a child at that- as he circled in the sky and dropped next to Howl.

He knew what that jolt meant- the Fidelius has been dropped. By _what_ , he didn’t know, but he _did_ know that the castle has gone down.

It seems that Howl has come to the same conclusion- he dropped his guard, and both sides instantly jumped on him like vultures. Harry glided to him while losing his own pursuers. In the middle of a swarm of magicians was Howl, who was desperately clawing his way out.

Blood hot with adrenaline, Harry took a deep breath and breathed out jets of bright flames which burnt the enemies to a crisp.

‘ _Go_ ’, Harry sent the telepathic message to Howl, who by this point was no longer coherent once more. However, it seems that his concern for Sophie managed to help him overpower his inner monster briefly, for Howl immediately took off through the opening Harry made in the battlefront.

Harry watched as Howl left the battlefield hurriedly. He nudged his own injured and torn wings. Out of the two of them, he was definitely the one in better shape, but even he was getting worn down. Nonetheless, he would _have_ to continue no matter what.

He sighed- the sound coming out as a rasp through his bloody jaw. Then, he let his wyvern instincts take over- he was just so tired of this. For now, he would take a nap…

“Fiendfyre,” Harry commanded before letting the wyvern in him command the fire. As a cousin of the dragons, wyverns are born with fire in their veins. Humans find it hard to control fire because they are creatures of the earth- from dust they were made, and to dust, they will return. However, to wyverns and dragons, controlling fire is as easy as breathing.

He was sure that the next time he woke up, it will be to the sight of silence and devastation- after all, that was what happened last time he let his wyvern take over on the battlefield and destroy the world. It will be worth it this time- if only for Sophie and Howl’s sake.

* * *

**XXXII.**

Crack. Crack. Groan. The rusted joints of what’s left of Howl’s Moving Castle crumbled as Calcifer left for the skies, leaving the castle without a source of magic.

“The castle can’t stand without Calcifer!” Marco yelled as the wooden floor board started sliding down to the chasm below. It gained in speed, and soon, they would plunge into the depths below.

Sophie closed her eyes and held Howl close to her. In his current state, there was nothing Howl could do- he still hasn’t recovered from the battle, and he was in no shape to do any magic.

‘Someone, please help,’ she pleaded and squeezed her eyes shut. Her saving grace came in the form of Turniphead, who bounded to the front of the floor board. The weight and traction of the fall wore down on his pole, but still, his valiant efforts slowed down the free fall slightly. It was only a desperate measure to buy time, but it was enough.

A large black shadow swooped down from the skies and picked up the piece of wood (with the inhabitants attached) in one great claw.

Sophie gasped as the falling sensation suddenly ceased; she looked up to see large calloused claws blocking out the sun. Next to her, obsidian claws grasped the frail piece of wood. On closer inspection, pieces of an arm clung onto the sharp claws- she grimaced.

Beat by beat, great wings brought them over the mountains and to a plateau high off the ground. The ride was surprisingly smooth, and soon, they were set down gently.

 The wyvern (Harry, Sophie mentally noted past her fear) curved his neck and nudged her slightly with his snout. He huffed in her face, sending warm smoke curling over her thin body. Sophie giggled despite her weariness and walked around him. She glanced at Howl- noting that he was safe and still sleeping- and ran a hand over Harry’s scales.

He has gotten larger, if that was even possible, Sophie thought in wonder. However, his skin was broken in many places, and his scales were jagged from the many cuts on his skin and wings. His tail was fractured- Sophie noted the odd angle in which it was bent. A hesitant flapping hinted to Sophie that his left wing was probably in the same state. Over his spine, many of the brilliantly gleaming spikes were broken and chipped. Overall, the magnificent beast was in rough shape. Even now, he dripped dark red blood over the green grass of the plateau. It smoked as it burnt the grass in places where it dropped.

“Harry,” Sophie said. “You’re back.”

For one frightful moment, Sophie saw no recognition in those slitted green eyes. The great scaled head nudged closer to her, and Sophie fought to stand tall against the blistering smoke that leaked from the wyvern’s nostril.

Did Harry not recognize her? Sophie thought, dread climbing slowly up her spine. It was foolish of her to think that _just_ because the wyvern saved them, that it was Harry… and not the beast sleeping inside him.

Please, please, _please_ let Harry still be in there somewhere, Sophie hoped fervently as she stared defiantly into the eyes that could easily be as large as her torso. Unbeknown to her, the magic slumbering inside her responded and _pulled_ at the wyvern’s mind.

The beast blinked, nodded, and unfurled its wings. Sophie was momentarily stunned by the majesty of the beast and forgot the brutality it was capable of.

For one long moment, the beast was motionless… then, warily, Harry blinked and transformed back. He bit back a scream as his fractured bones rubbed together and shrank down to their human form.

“Harry,” Sophie breathed, tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. “You’re _back_.”

“Urgh,” Harry panted and immediately fell over to his right side. He laid there, not bothering to get up. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing, and his wounds bled sluggishly. “I said I would, wouldn’t I? I kept your man safe for you,” he joked weakly and spat up a glob of blood.

She laughed weakly, the past two days having taken an enormous toll on her.

“Sophie- are you alright?,” he breathed and nearly screamed from the pain that shot from his ribs and shoulders

“Oh Harry,” she knelt down beside him and immediately tore apart her apron to bandage her wounds.

“What happened to you guys?” He winced as he sat up and held out his left arm for Sophie to bandage. “I couldn’t find you guys- I had to track Howl to even get an idea where you guys were. I felt the wards and spells that we put up around the castle disappear. And what happened to Calcifer?”

Sophie looked a bit uneasy. “It’s a long story- I- Calcifer… Something happened, and I ended up getting water on Calcifer. The castle fell apart afterwards, and I’m not quite sure what happened.”

Harry sighed- something _always_ happens when he’s gone. “Alright, alright- we’ll figure this out later. Calcifer doesn’t die that easily- he’s no normal back chatting lump of fire. Actually, where is he right now? I’m surprised he hasn’t started snarking at us by now.”

Sophie shook her head. “I gave Howl his heart back.”

A beat of stillness. “Pardon?” Harry asked, baffled. Normal rituals involving restoring a demon’s influence on a human heart takes _years_ to execute, and the process itself was tricky, needing more than one magician to handle the delicate process. It was one of the reasons why Sulliman used that as a bargaining chip.

“Howl- he took me to the castle and then collapsed. I just _knew_ that he needed his heart back.” Sophie said. She had no idea how to explain the _feeling_ that she had; it was almost instinct. Strangely, Harry accepted her explanation without blinking an eye.

“So Calcifer’s gone now?” Harry raised an eyebrow. He was surprised that things have come to this- that Sophie had to sacrifice something to Calcifer as well.

“That… that _demon_ ,” Harry snarled, positively angry that the demon had made off with the sliver of his soul and left Sophie to survive on her own.

“Calcifer’s not at fault,” Sophie insisted. “He’s free now.”

“Of course he is,” Harry insisted. He didn’t tell Sophie of the deal he made with the devil, but it was only a matter of time until he did. As for now, he had more urgent matters to attend to, like the unconscious wizard in front of him.

Harry slung his (relatively) uninjured arm over Sophie’s shoulder and limped his way over to Howl and the rest.

“Thank you, Sophie- I’ve got it now. You should probably make sure the others are alright.” Harry dropped to the ground and half crawled to Howl. He began healing him immediately and searched for his moleskin bag he hid inside the Resurrection Stone. Thankfully, it was still in one piece. He was half expecting that it would have been torn to shreds by now. Immediately, he felt the stone pulse in a manner that was almost _indignant_. Of course the Hallows would be overly prideful, he thought tiredly. He winced in pain as the motion jostled his broken arm.

From his bag, he quickly withdrew several potions: a blood replenisher, a blood clotter, a magical core stabilizer, a healing salve, skelegrow, splints, and bandages. Harry took one considering look at the items before him… and proceeded to chug the consumable potions one by one. He was sure that somewhere in afterlife, Snape would be pulling at his hair, but he can’t die _anyways,_ so whether the potions were poisonous or not doesn’t matter to him.

However, the taste was a different issue altogether. With a shudder, the magician aligned his broken arm the best he could and splinted. Then, he went over to Howl, who was still unconscious.

He waved the Elder wand back and forth to scan Howl’s vitals; Harry read the glowing letters in front of him before pulling out even more items from his bag (all the while thanking whoever invented space extension charms).

“At least he’s alive and in one piece,” he muttered to himself. Even more importantly, he was _himself_. Though he would not admit it, for one deadly moment on the battlefield, he was afraid Howl would lose his mind completely.

Carefully, he fed Howl the necessary potions (this time taking care not to mix the wrong potions together). The wars in the past had more or less given him enough experience in first aid to qualify as a combat medic- if he could be bothered to work for anyone but himself. Nonetheless, he waved his wand around a couple more times to make sure that the potions would go into the stomach and not the lungs. Normally, he would run quick diagnostics on him first to get his vitals, but the root of the issue is really magical depletion.

For magicians of Howl’s caliber, enduring grievous injuries isn’t much of an issue- their body repairs the damage much quicker than non magicians; there’s a reason why wizarding lifespan was so much longer than muggle ones. Still, that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t work to be done- he’ll probably have at least a full month of recovery to look forward to, if not more, but at least he’s alive and kicking for now.

Harry sighed as his hands glowed green with magic and worked on reexpanding Howl’s lungs from where some lucky idiot managed to get a good hit in. Absently, he wondered about the other occupants of the castle: namely the turnip with the curse… Who turned into the missing prince upon being kissed by Sophie.

I guess he won’t need that new stick after all, Harry mused. Though it was surprising that Prince Justin was Turniphead all along, some things are just meant to be. There are no such things as coincidences- only fate, Harry repeated to himself.

A prince, he thought to himself. Dealing with royalty is always a bit difficult, very touch-and-go. As a future king, he will have the power to do a great many things. If he truly wanted Sophie, his true love, he doubted very many would be able to stop him. It’s not very likely he would take Sophie away from Howl if he truly loves her, but still, he’ll be having _words_ with the prince, just to make sure that he doesn’t get any odd ideas.

A pained groan pulled Harry from his thoughts as the patient beneath his hand twitched. “… Sophie? What’s going on? What am I doing here?”

Harry allowed himself to be gently shoved aside just this once as Sophie rushed to Howl’s side. He wondered how offended he should be if Howl’s out of it enough to think that _he_ was _Sophie_ of all people. Seriously, they look nothing alike.

“I feel terrible- like there’s a weight on my chest.”

“A heart’s a heavy burden,” she said, eyes alight with relief and joy.

“Wow, Sophie, your hair looks just like starlight. It’s beautiful.” Howl breathed and reached one hand to touch her air. To the side, Harry scooted over closer to the prince, the old witch, the boy, and the dog. It wasn’t that he belonged with them by any stretch of imagination- he just wanted to get out of the warpath of the flirting couple. It was a different kind of war that Harry had absolutely no interest in.

“You think so? So do I!” she said as she bodily tackled him into the ground.

“Watch the lungs, you two.” Harry grumbled and began to heal his own wounds. Watching those two youngsters definitely made him feel his age. “And there’s a child here, so keep it down.” He doubted they would care, but at least the old witch slapped a hand over Marco’s innocent eyes.

“Looks like your true love is in love with someone else,” the witch teased the prince, who stiffened.

“That’s life for you,” Harry shrugged.

“You should go anyways and tell your king to stop this dumb war,” the witch said.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. One thing you can always count on is that hearts change, so as soon as this war is over, I shall return,” the prince vowed.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Harry muttered to himself as he began to make plans in the back of his mind. As soon as one war is over, he gets tossed into another- troublesome.

“I love it when you talk like that- I look forward to your return, big boy!” The eighty something year old witch said with a salacious wink.

Huh, Harry thought to himself while trying to ignore his screaming instincts to run far, far away from the man-eater in front of him. Now that might actually work.

Heem wheezed a laugh as he spun around and looked into the distance.

“So you are reporting to Sulliman, Dog.” Harry mused. He supposed the odd pup didn’t mean any harm if he only reported to his master _after_ all the conflict was over. “Tell Sulliman I said hi and to not bother me never.”

Heem laughed some more and nodded. It’s time that this war ended for good.

* * *

**XXXIII.**

“I’ll give the prince a lift back,” Harry sighed as he finished patching himself up. He gave himself a once over and mentally patted himself on the back for a patch job well done. He could still sleep for a good month or two, but at least he didn’t feel like keeling over anytime soon.

“Are you sure, Harry?” Sophie asked, concern evident in her voice. Howl had his arm slipped comfortably around Sophie’s waist, beaming like the sun. The two lovers were done with their loving, for now.

“Yeah, I’ll fly the prince back- it’ll be worse if he gets lost on his way back since he has to cross a warzone,” Harry yawned and cracked his back and shoulders.

“So, Prince Justin- where do you live?” Harry turned his head to address the prince, who was looking a little more than heartbroken to see the happiness evident in Sophie’s eyes.

The question startled Prince Justin, and he blinked in surprise. How often does the prince of a nation get asked where he lives? “Just across the channel not too far from here.”

“And you wanted to get there on a stick?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

The prince shrugged- an action that was still elegant. “I’m sure I’d manage.”

“Wait- across the channel as in the British Channel?” Harry’s brain took a minute to boot up.

Now it was _him_ getting the weird looks. “Yes, that’s what it was called four hundred years ago before my many times great grandfather changed the official name of it,” Prince Justin said incredulously.

Harry stood up and rocked back on his heels. “Huh- I really haven’t been back in a long time. I lived in Surrey growing up and went to somewhere in Scotland,” he said.

Prince Justin looked about as lost as the rest of them felt. He looked as if he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to trust Harry’s four hundred year old geography.

“Anyways, don’t worry about it- Buckingham Palace, yeah?” Harry asked and waved away their concerns.

“Yes, though it really isn’t called that anymore,” the prince replied politely, if a bit hesitantly.

Harry nodded. He couldn’t care less what the place is called, as long as he gets the kid back to his worried parents, so they can stop going ballistic on the world in general. Of course this war would be the British and the French going at it- even six hundred years later when they aren’t even called the French and the British anymore.

“Alright, I’ll take you back in a bit,” Harry said, rolling his sore shoulders. “Give me a second here.”

As he was about to change into his wyvern form, he spotted a small ball of light drifting down from the sky.

“Calcifer!” Sophie gasped.

“Aww, you didn’t have to come back, Calcifer,” Howl said casually.

He kinda did, Harry thought petulantly. He is owed at least five years of service from the backchatting demon, after all.

“I kind of missed you guys- and it looked like he was going to rain,” he whined.

“You do kind of owe me,” Harry raised an eyebrow and said pointedly. The ball of fire pinked and said nothing. To the side, Howl looked on, a bit curious and suspicious all the same- what happened when he was gone? He was sure that _something_ of a deal was made between Harry and Calcifer, but he supposed the issue could wait.

The demon pinked some more when Sophie kissed him full on the lips (as much as she could have anyways, given that the demon has no body to speak of). “Wow!” he gasped.

“Don’t I get a kiss too?” Harry teased. An “Of course you do!” was the only warning he got; he really wasn’t expecting an armful of Sophie and a big kiss on the cheek- being thanked isn’t something that he’s used to. Nonetheless, he agreed wholeheartedly with Calcifer- Sophie’s magic was really overwhelming. He’ll have to teach her to control it soon, given how it has grown and expanded by leaps and bounds in the past couple of weeks.

Harry laughed and gave Sophie a hug. It has really been a long couple of weeks’ journey from being a civilian antique seller to returning as a wizard. It was doubly so for Sophie, whose journey spoke of her strength of heart, and the journey was only beginning.

“Off we go then,” Harry said happily, still drunk off of Sophie’s magic. With a flourish, he called his wyvern back out and transformed.

“Wow!” Marco gasped as he looked at the shiny obsidian scales and the large wings that could block out the sky almost entirely. Mischief shined in emerald eyes as Harry butted Marco gently with his snout.

“Hey, that tickles!” The child squealed. He snorted, and a stream of smoke drifted up.

Harry is really quite good with children, Sophie thought to herself.

With a small bow, Prince Justin clambered onto the back of the wyvern, and they were off.

* * *

**XXXIV.**

“You love Sophie, don’t you?” Harry asked. It was more of a statement than a question, at this point. If the prince was surprised that the wyvern spoke to him in his mind, he didn’t show it.

Prince Justin stared up at the night sky from the back of a wyvern. He never thought that he would see this happen to him- all his life, he had grown up like a plant in the greenhouse, sheltered and hidden away from life. He had no idea what life was like outside the palace, let alone what people lived like in another country. To say that learning about life is the silver lining to his situation would not be giving his lesson in life enough credit. It was really a blessing in disguise, this curse, he thought to himself. From where he was lying above the clouds, he could see the skies open up and the milky way clear before him. He was warm, thanks to Harry’s spells, and the ride was smooth and comfortable.

Seeing a war first handed- there was nothing that he could use to describe the experience. No words, no feelings can adequately express the war. The deep guilt that clawed at his gut was only matched by the frustration and sorrow that people were dying on his behalf, while he was stuck as a scarecrow for what he thought would be all eternity. The only light in his eyes then was this old lady who went and pulled him out of a bush; he was thankful at first, but he slowly came to love her spirit and kindness. He was even more shocked when he realized that she was _not_ actually an old lady, but a beautiful young lady. He was in love, and love was what he needed to break his curse.

Rethinking back on the happiness in Sophie’s eyes as she laughed in Howl’s arms sent a pang through his heart. Alas, that love was never meant to be his.

“Do you love her?” Harry asked again.

“I do,” he replied calmly. “With all my heart. She’s a pure, beautiful woman with a heart of gold. She’s one of a kind- the sort of person that you can’t find in this world anymore.”

The dragon hummed into the sky. “Then you should also know that her heart belongs to someone else.”

“Yes,” Justin sighed and stared up at the stars. The Great Magician Howl isn’t someone he can compete with- that much he knows. He’s a prince with an army on his hands, but could he bare to send them after the happy couple? He could not. Can’t Sophie see? Howl isn’t any good for a person like her- she’s too good for him. Even he has heard of the infamous Howl, all the way across the channel in a different country. How can she just look past that? He could treat her so much better.

“Do you plan on doing something about that?” There was an odd edge to the wyvern’s words.

Justin thought long and hard about the question. “… No,” he said at long last. “I don’t. There’s nothing I can do.”

Harry kept his eyes on the clouds and thought about his next words. “Sometimes love isn’t about what’s best for a person. What’s ‘best’? Your best might not be her best, may not be my best or someone else’s best. “Best” is a vague concept with varying definition according to different people.”

“Love can be a wonderful thing.” Ginny’s fire red hair flashed in Harry’s mind. He saw the way she would turn her head and laugh when he tapped her on the shoulder. “It can also be the most painful thing in the world, and sometimes the most you can do for the person you love is to let them go. Love isn’t about selfishness- not about wanting and taking and possessing a person- it’s about giving. Giving the other person the most that you can give. Even if it’s painful for you, their happiness is their happiness. A person isn’t a possession. Love isn’t about keeping someone tied down- it’s about letting them go and going with them. It’s the most beautiful thing- to feel the wind through your hair and feel the _freedom_ that’s so vibrant… and want to share that with another person. To love someone is to be free with them.”

Justin’s breathe hitched. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He’s young- he knows- but true love is something that comes and only once to people like him. He’s lucky, if he can even share a couple of words with his love. “Love has never been a factor in my life,” he admits quietly. Loveless marriages were more often than not, and his parents surely didn’t love each other. He has to tell himself, that he loves his people and his responsibility and obligations… but even to him, the words sound dry.

Harry nodded, fully understanding the scope of the words. “It has always been that way, even hundreds of years ago. I’m sorry.”

Justin nodded with all the grace he could muster.

“Give it some thought; even if Sophie doesn’t love you romantically, she sees you as a friend. You don’t have to be completely cut out from their lives, if you wish to keep in contact.” Harry mused. “Give it some thought, okay? For now, enjoy the last hours of your freedom. Here, it doesn’t matter what you are, who you know, or what you have to do. We are all people under the same sky, small and insignificant as the next. Here we’re all equal, beneath the expanse of the stars that guide us. So sit back and enjoy for now, okay?”

If Harry minded the wet sobs he heard in the back, he paid them no mind.

* * *

**XXXV.**

The morning sun woke the slumbering prince gently; he peeked cautiously over the great flapping wings and saw that they were past the isles and getting quite close to his home.

“You might want to get ready to tell your parents to stand down when we land in front of the palace,” Harry snorted. “It’s not that I _can’t_ defend myself- I very well can- but it’s bad manners to drop by unannounced.”

It’s times like this that Justin wonders about Harry’s lineage. It seems that even six hundred years could not fully erase his upbringing.

“Yes, I’ll definitely do that,” the prince said with a small laugh. “Thank you for the consideration.”

“No problem- it’s easier that way,” Harry barked a laugh as he flew lower and lower until they were beneath the clouds. Prince Justin could see how Harry’s bulk casted a huge black shadow over the surrounding farmlands near the palace. When he saw the palace come into view, he hurriedly took off his bright yellow jacket and began waving it. It was as undignified as undignified comes, but hopefully it would be enough to tell the scouts that they mean no harm.

For one baited breath, he thought that the palace guards would send airships to greet them, but the worry was unfounded. They touched down peacefully in front of the palace to the sight of awed onlookers and palace guards alike.

Someone must have recognized the jacket, he thought. A quick glance at the nearest soldier’s shaking shoulders told him that they likely recognized Harry as well. How could they not? With all that he had done in the war?

He quickly clambered off Harry’s back when he heard his parents calling for him; even the king and the queen were brought out of their thrones for this.

“Mother, Father,” he greeted breathlessly. He could feel tears welling up in the corners of his eyes again, and he blinked them back the best he could. He’s a prince again and no longer Turniphead the Scarecrow, free to act as he pleased.

“Oh, Justin! You’re alright!” His mother tackled him and started sobbing on his shoulder, decorum be damned. His father too, rushed over and joined her in hugging him. He could hear their unsaid words- they thought he was dead.

Harry sat on his haunches and folded his wings as he observed the touching reunion. He couldn’t blame them for going to war over a missing child, as much as he detests wars. He too, has gone on a warpath in search of his child (in particular, that one time when one of the Death Eater remnants decided that kidnapping James Sirius was a good idea). More often than not though, it was Ginny who had a temper- not him. He was usually stuck trying to keep Ginny from destroying everything in sight.

He craned his neck towards the royal family and bowed his head in greetings. The king saw intelligence in the eyes of the black wyvern that had laid waste to his armies and thus called off the guards.

To his surprise, the wyvern nodded in thanks and shrunk down to a man with messy black hairs and a lightning bolt scar etched above his brow.

The man spoke regally: “The Prince has been found- the war is over.” He spoke with the air of a noble, back straight and head held high.

A mage, the king thought as apprehension slid up his spine. And an extremely powerful one at that- how did anyone _not_ pull him into the armies? The wyvern’s actions had puzzled their generals; it destroyed airships from both sides of the war, and magic seemed to have no effect on him. What was its motive? It was clearly intelligent and capable of complex maneuvers.

“You brought back my child,” the queen said, gratefulness deep in her voice. She curtsied deeply to him; “You have my thanks- _our_ thanks.”

The man grinned winsomely. “It was no problem, really, though it’s a rather long story as to how we came across him. You might want to find out who laid that curse on him though.”

“Curse?” The queen pulled Justin back and started inspecting him closely.

“I’m fine now, Mother. Harry and the people I met on my journey helped me break it,” Justin said, not daring to mention Sophie’s name.

Harry nodded. “He was a turnip on a stick when we found him. Someone- likely a magician of some power- laid a curse on him and sent him across the channel. What for, I don’t know, but there’s probably a mage somewhere with a vendetta against the royal family.” Especially since Justin is an only child, Harry mused.

The king’s visage darkened in rage. “Who dares to harm the royal family and start a war? Son, do you remember who laid the curse on you?”

From the corner of his eyes, Harry spied someone twitch. He twitched his fingers, and the elder wand shot into his hands from where he kept it in his wand hostler. Better safe than sorry.

“I do,” Justin said confidently. He’ll take great pleasure in extracting vengeance through the court of law.

From his position slightly away from the royal family, Harry saw a sickly orange flash of light heading to Justin. He stepped into the trajectory quickly and whipped out his wand.

“Protego! Incarcerous!” he shouted as a pearly shield absorbed the curse. Ropes sprang from thin air and stopped the magician from running away entirely.

“Well, there’s your guy right there. It was stupid of you to think that you can get in a lucky shot unnoticed with another mage in the vicinity,” Harry mused.

“The head magician of our commanding forces,” the King looked apoplectic with rage.

“Who are you?!” The magician looked gaunt and crazed, with blood shot eyes and unkempt hair.

“I’m Harry James Potter,” Harry smiled maliciously down at him and tightened the ropes for good measure. That’s for giving him _this_ much trouble.

The royal historian to the side, who was transcribing the whole event, made a noise that unlike that of a dying frog and fainted dead away.

“Oh good, someone still remembers me,” Harry shrugged.

* * *

**XXXVI.**

It was a good many days before Harry could bow out of the festivities and get back to Sophie and Howl. What a turn of events _this_ was- to go from a monster on the battlefield to a celebrated hero.

“You must simply stay for the festivals!” The queen insisted quite vehemently.

Harry only looked at Justin, who shrugged helplessly. This _is_ the queen after all, who doubles as his mother.

“Alright.” His resolve caved in when he saw that treacle tarts were still a very popular treat.

Thus, it was with a belly full of countless tarts and maybe a pheasant or two that he flew back across the British Channel. Prince Justin vowed to visit, and Harry promised to pass on the promise to Sophie and Howl. Hopefully the prince would not make any untoward actions towards Sophie- Harry didn’t think that the prince would be quite that idiotic. Hopefully having a future king who has seen the true face of war can help save the lives of others during his reign. A king who knows the value of peace is worth more than anything in his kingdom.

Harry flew on until he landed in the middle of a peaceful meadow of flowers next to the castle.

“Harry! You’re back!” Sophie took a break from hanging up the laundry and hugged his snout tight.

He snorted warm smoke in her face and allowed Marco and Heem to climb around him for a bit before he shrunk down to his human form.

“Ooph, I could really use a nap,” Harry yawned, patting his full belly. Sophie smiled in part exasperation and led him back indoors.

It seems like Howl has been quite busy lately; the castle has been now completely renovated to _fly_ , and the layout of the entire house has changed once again.

“You know, when you flew off in such a rough shape, I thought you’d come back looking a little less like you just had the time of your life,” Calcifer remarked from the hearth.

“They had good treacle tarts,” Harry said in lieu of an explanation and promptly curled up on the couch and fell asleep.

They were all big children, the lot of them, Sophie thought to herself as she slipped a pillow under Harry’s head.

* * *

**XXXVII.**

In total, he slept for a good week or so before he recovered enough to remember that he should probably go back to pack up his store.

“I’m going out to run some errands,” Harry called and grabbed his jacket.

“Safe errands, I hope?” Howl raised an eyebrow. Errands could mean a lot of things in Harry’s book.

“We’ll see- I’ll send a message back or something if I’m gone for more than a couple of days,” Harry replied, which was enough to satisfy Howl’s worry.

He shrugged on his jacket and leapt out of the flying castle, transforming mid-leap into his wyvern form. He could use a good flight to stretch his wings.

It wasn’t long until he got back to his humble antique shop. In the middle of a burnt and sodden battlefield stood his shop, pristine as the day he bought it.

“I’m home,” Harry called jokingly into the empty shop. He expected no reply and got none- he stood in the entrance, breathing in the smell of his antiques. Each one was precious to him in one small way or another- each carried a small part of his history, which is why he had such strong wards to protect them.

Thankfully, Bill’s ward stones made it out of the bombing okay, though some spells would have to be reapplied. Harry’s gaze focused on the small, cream envelope on the counter.

The last time this store, his heart was pounding with adrenaline and fear. This time, he’ll see what Sulliman wants. He waved the Elder wand several times over the envelope; it was clear of all enchantments. So it was _just_ a letter then. But even a letter can be deadly in the right hands. With a bit of hesitance, he slipped a letter opener through the envelope and read the letter.

“Seriously? All this trouble for a goddamn invitation to _tea_? You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

* * *

**XXXVIII.**

Tea with Sulliman- he never thought he’d live to see the day after all the past that they shared.

“So, why did you call me out all the way here to have _tea_ with you?” Harry asked, one eyebrow raised. He wasn’t all that surprised to see that her greenhouse has been repaired.

“Is Heem doing well?” She asked serenely, a cup of tea in one hand.

Well, I guess she wants to play games, Harry thought with a sigh. “He’s doing well enough- he likes living here, so I guess you’re not getting your dog back.”

“It is a shame,” she concurred. “Is Howl and his love well?”

He _really_ didn’t know what Sulliman was playing at; she never struck him as the kind grandmother type. Sulliman- kind- what a riot. “They’re doing well. They’re a bit nauseating to look at sometimes, but they’re well.”

“And you, Master?” She asked, a bit of a smile on her lips.

“As well as can be, I guess. It’s nice to travel around,” Harry kept his answer curt.

“Do you not get lonely, watching them?” She asked out of the blue.

Man, Sulliman is really still as terrifying and unreadable as ever. “Well, no- I’ve had my time and my family. I’m old- loneliness really isn’t something that bothers me anymore.”

Sulliman hummed around her tea and asked the page boy to refill her tea. He did so obediently.

“Is there something you actually need, or am I free to go?” Harry asked.

“Is it such a crime to catch up with your only living master?” She asked in return.

“The only living one because you sort of absorbed your other last living master,” Harry pointed out.

She only shrugged elegantly.

“I don’t know what you could possibly want with me- I thought I made it abundantly clear that I wanted nothing to do with you. You can’t possibly tell me that you’re feeling _nostalgic_ after dropping a war on our heads,” Harry rebutted.

“Yes, you’ve done a commendable job on staying hidden from me,” Sulliman concurred.

“Which is why I don’t really even understand why I’m here,” Harry mused for a moment. “I suppose I’m here for answers.”

“And which ones would you like to hear?” Sulliman asked.

“The truth, if you will,” he said immediately. “Why did you do what you did? In the past and now? You sent those magicians after us knowing that they don’t stand a chance against both Howl and I. You let Howl leave with his vow unfulfilled; you could have called him back if you really wanted to, but you didn’t. You sent Heem with us but didn’t use him to track us down. You gave the Witch of the Wastes that cigar to weaken Howl’s demon, but it wasn’t even that potent. You called off the war and helped make a treaty possible for both sides… after serving as Chief Mage of the armies. Your actions contradict themselves, and I want to know why they do. You were never that way, and I want to know what changed.”

“People change with time, Master. I suppose you’ll know that better than most,” Sulliman said.

“No, you were never that indecisive with what you wanted,” Harry said. “You’re bound by the oath.”

“As is everyone who practices magic except for you,” Sulliman agreed.

“You’re bound by a different oath…” Harry frowned. At this age, Sulliman should be quite frail already, magic or not. Was she even _mobile_ anymore? He thought to himself while eying her wheelchair.

“I am, regretfully,” she nodded.

“How did _that_ happen? I always thought that you were too smart to get trapped by an oath like that,” Harry insisted.

“Greed has its price, Master. That is a lesson that I learned keenly while you were away,” she said.

Harry took a moment to mull over the answer- Sulliman’s greed. In the end, it is greed that drives all great mages to their ends. “Your master knew you would absorb his magic, or at least try.”

“Yes, it was foolish of me,” Sulliman admitted.

How very odd of her to bend her pride now of all times. “And he bound you with an oath within his magic- when you absorbed his magic, you absorbed the oath with it,” Harry realized.

“What were the conditions of the oath?” Harry asked immediately.

Sulliman merely shook her head, the smile never leaving her lips.

“That curse again, huh,” Harry sighed. “Probably to this position and the crown. Knowing how old you are, you probably don’t have much time left,” he said, pointing to her legs.

“I’ll take you word for it, Master,” Sulliman said, taking the news of her limited mortality rather well. But of course, who could she trust on such things if not the Master of Death?

“I’d free you if I could,” Harry said quietly. Because despite all the mistakes she has made, all the trouble and danger she has put him through, she was still his pupil. His soul burned with anger- how dare that master of hers bound her like that?

“It is by far too late for that,” she said. “If I could, I would have done so.”

She’s probably right, Harry thought. Death was the ultimate sacrifice for spells. It was one reason why Lily Potter’s sacrifice was enough to bring down even Voldemort. Undoing a spell like that would need a sacrifice of equal power- in this case, Sulliman’s own death.

“I see… So in the end, it was your greed. That was why you weren’t afraid of death,” Harry said quietly, remembering the surety in her eyes when he was only one blow away from ending her life.

“It is, for a great many people,” she said wisely. “Pride and greed alike. It is my biggest mistake, one that I will pay for, for what’s left of my life.”

Harry mulled over her words for a moment- would he give her this second chance? Perhaps it was age and regret tempering her ambition. For her to seek him out again now of all times- for her to seek _forgiveness_ and _redemption_ now- she must be close to her end. Would he forgive her, his once-bright student. He looked at her and saw Hermione once, but now he merely sees acceptance and regret. Would he begrudge her this request? No, he would not.

Harry sighed and put down his tea. “How have you been?”

* * *

**AN:**

Mandy: I figured this was a good place to end things- I’m sorry that it took me _this_ long to update a fic that _should_ have been done within three weeks. I suppose one year is already kind of quick for me? I blame my academics for that. Life has been completely topsy-turvy lately, and I’m pretty sure it’ll just get worse from here on out. I’m enjoying a couple days off right now post exams, so I figured I should get this out. Unfortunately, the last five to six pages of this is unedited since I’m in a hurry to churn out the ending, so please excuse any typos and verb tense errors. I’ll be working on updating both Midnight Rain and The Prince as time allows, but I’ve hit a rather large block with That Crazy Nut of a Teacher, so that one is sort of on hold for now. Anyways, word total: 33.57k- I can’t believe I actually finished a non-oneshot story for once.

I almost wanted to write an epilogue, but I think ending it here with Sulliman is better. The story started off with Harry’s regret, and it ends with his forgiveness. However, I’ll go ahead and detail what’s left of the ending (since there are _so many_ loose ends and plot holes in the cannon ending):

* * *

**Extra: XXXIX**

Harry went home and began training Sophie in healing magic, much to her confusion. He teaches Marco and Howl too (or rather, he holds long discussions with Howl over spells and wards, and Sophie has to drag them both by the ear to even get them to stop talking for all of five minutes and go eat lunch). He tries to restore the Witch of the Waste’s magic, but her frail body can’t accept such potent magic anymore. Surprisingly, the old witch is okay with this- “It’s better this way,” she says in a moment of lucidity and refuses to elaborate.

Marco is nearly twelve when Sophie becomes pregnant (a failure of birth control, Harry guesses) with twins; they’re born nine months later to a _very_ anxious Howl and an exasperated Harry. She names them Lettie, after her sister, and Harrison, after Harry. He objected to the name of the second twin, but Sophie wouldn’t hear of it- “You changed our _lives_ , Harry. Naming our child after you is a blessing and not a curse.” She names him the godfather to little Harrison and Prince Justin as godfather of Lettie.

The good prince _did_ keep in contact, though Harry caught his wistful looks occasionally. He married a princess from France (or what is _now_ France), and Harry pities him for having the most idiotic in-laws in all of history. The princess, contrary to Harry’s expectations, was a meek and pretty girl, though she _does_ seem to have a brain inside that head of hers. They have three children- Princess Sophie, Prince Arthur, and Prince Harry (again, named after the last person who would ever want a child named after him in honor). Together, the couple brings the longest stretch of peace the region has seen in a good three centuries. “The Pacifist King”, is what they call Justin, though Harry thinks half of the credit should go to his queen: the idiot king on the other end of the channel has the softest weak spot ever for his daughter.

Sulliman lasts a good five years before she expires at last from old age. Harry is on hand when she passes quietly in her wheelchair, surrounded by the plants she loves. She gives her blessing (a _very_ magical one) to Howl and Sophie’s twins with what’s left of her magic. He holds her hands until they go cold: “it’s just like falling asleep,” Harry tells her. “Say hi to the people on the other side for me, okay?” he remembers the last half decade the spent together, and the child that he first saw chasing fireflies. He remembers her good times, her faults, and what happened after, and he sheds tears for her.

Howl says nothing when he returns home late after a week of grief, solemn and taciturn; he tags along with him to visit Sulliman’s grave and brings enough flowers for two. Sophie and the twins went with them the year after that, and the twins ask Howl who the grave belongs to. Harry is the one who answers: “Someone great, a brilliant and powerful person who could have done amazing things.” Howl pats him on the shoulder.

The twins grow up well; Lettie is playful and takes after her father in personality. She too, burns off Harry’s eyebrows when he begins teaching them magic, and Sophie was on hand to snap a picture for the family album. Harrison Jr, however, is a pacifist at heart: he learns his white magic and refuses to learn elemental spells. When asked why, he turns and Looks at his father and says with the innocence of a child: “I don’t want to see anyone hurt ever. And if they are hurt, I want to be able to fix them.” Harry gives him an extra serving of ice cream that night.

When the twins are sixteen, Prince Arthur plucks up the courage to ask Howl for permission to take Lettie to the annual Christmas dance. The poor child was as scared as any in front of the Great Magician Howl (let alone anyone daring to ask his permission to date his little girl), but Sophie approved of him wholeheartedly. Harry tags along (being the nosy godfather he is), and he is mobbed by the palace historians who crow over the reappearance of a “historical artifact of great value.” He’s equally offended and amused by their words, and he wonders if he’ll find an excavation site at Hogwarts.

All in all, life went on, and even though Sophie and Howl aged and passed with time, Harry was content to look after their descendants. Occasionally, he would see a flash of Howl’s mischief or a touch of Sophie’s stubbornness in their children and great-grandchildren, and he knows that he would never know loneliness in his life again.

 


End file.
